Lion's Den
by xenascully
Summary: The team goes to Africa when three Naval officers turn up dead. One of the agents will end up fighting for their life... and in a case back home, the team must fight the clock to find a serial killer...
1. Chapter 1

**Lion's Den**

**Rated: T for now...to be safe.**

**Summary: The team goes to Africa when three Naval officers turn up dead. One of the agents will end up fighting for their life...**

**Pairings: most likely none...but who knows.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. But I play with them often. Also, while I'm thinking about it, Camp Lemonnier is a real base in the very real Djibouti, Africa. But I don't claim to know what really goes on there, besides what is found in this chapter to be said by McGee. Google it, if you must ;). **

**Hope you enjoy!!**

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was announced by the dinging of the elevator as he tried to stealthily make his way to his desk, balancing four cups of coffee in a tray. He failed, of course, as Agent McGee spotted him immediately, and Ziva soon after.

"Late night, Tony?" Tim smirked.

"Late morning, McHallmonitor," Tony made a face as he swung off his backpack and set it on the floor beside his desk. "Had to go back to the coffee shop _twice_..."

"Did you forget something?" Ziva raised an inquisitive brow.

"On the contrary, I forgot nothing, Zee-vah," he said as he placed her cup down in front of her on her desk.

"Then...why did you go back?" McGee asked, cocking his head in curiosity. Tony spun around as he walked toward the Probie's desk and handed him his cup.

"Student driver...side-swiped my car right as I was pulling away," he said with narrowed eyes.

"Were you hurt?" Tim's expression became more of concern.

"No. Wasn't that bad, except the sudden jolt toppled every last cup of coffee into the upholstery of my passenger seat," frustration was clear in his voice by the end of the statement.

"Awwww..." unanimously came from Ziva and Tim, and they shared a quick glance with amused grins.

"Aw, nothing," Tony glared between the both of them. "Do you have any idea how much it's gonna cost to get it cleaned? I came back here with fresh coffee, but I need to drop the car off to be cleaned before the stain sets in. Where's Gibbs?"

"He has been in MTAC all morning," Ziva told him.

"Think I've got enough time to get there and back before he realized I'm gone?" Tony asked in a hushed voice.

"Something tells me that you do not," Ziva replied as she focused up the staircase at Gibbs, who was on his way down.

Tony spun around to see him as he reached the bottom and turned the corner into the bullpen. "Morning, Boss," Tony handed Gibbs his coffee as he walked past him toward his desk.

"You're late," he replied without looking up.

"Yeah, about that...I had a little accident..." Tony began, and Gibbs looked at him with raised brows. "I'm fine, but my upholstery is covered in freshly brewed coffee, and I need...to..." his sentence drifted when Gibbs' infamous glare caused him pause. "Not important...sorry, Boss. Won't happen again."

"Go home and pack your bags," Gibbs said as he fished some items from his desk.

"Boss?" Tony panicked for just a moment.

"Got a case," he elaborated. "Triple homicide; all Naval officers."

"Where we goin',?" Tony asked.

"Camp Lemonnier," he replied.

"Uh...Djibouti?" McGee questioned. Gibbs and Tony looked over at him.

"What'd you just call him?" Tony asked, squinting at him.

"Djibouti is in Africa, Tony. It's where Camp Lemonnier is located," he turned back to Gibbs, who seemed slightly surprised at his knowledge. "Is it just you and Tony going?"

"We're _all_ goin', McGee," he told him.

"All of us?" Ziva asked, as if needing more confirmation.

"Includin' Duck," Gibbs said as he turned to head toward the stairwell.

"Ducky, too?" McGee confirmed, and Gibbs turned to come back into the bullpen, slightly annoyed.

"Is there some kinda echo in here?" he glared.

"Uh...no...sorry, Boss. Going home to pack, now," McGee turned to grab his pack.

"Gibbs," Ziva warily called, almost ducking her head when he turned to face her. "Just one more question," she said. "Where do we meet you when we are packed?"

He cocked his head at the question, in thought. "Meet me at my place," he replied as he turned toward the stairwell again, "We'll ride there in my car. Flight leaves in two hours, so hurry the hell up."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Didn't realize we were takin' a private flight," Tony grinned as he got comfortable in the leather seat aboard the plane.

"For security reasons," Gibbs told them.

"Are you gonna read us in on the case, Boss?" McGee asked.

Gibbs looked at him where he sat across the row. "I dunno, McGee. I was thinkin' you might have an idea of what we're headin' into."

"What?" Tim was suddenly unnerved. He fidgeted in his chair for a moment, "What do you mean?" Gibbs just continued to look at him; expressionless and expectant. Tony and Ziva shared a glance before looking curiously between Gibbs and McGee. "How did you know...?"

"Know what?" Tony narrowed his eyes.

Tim took a breath and sighed in resignation. "It's really nothing," he shook his head. "I was offered a job."

"In Djibouti?" Ziva asked.

Tim nodded, "In the computer security department. All they did was offer; I never accepted, so I don't know why you'd think I know anything about it," he said to Gibbs.

"Ya must know something about what they asked you to do," his boss replied.

"Well, nothing you couldn't find out online...but uh...you probably didn't...right, Boss. Um..." he fumbled over his words as he tried to recall the details. "Camp Lemonnier is the only U.S. military infrastructure located in Africa. Basically, they're in charge of providing a base of operations geared toward building security, sovereignty, and stability in the region. When they contacted me, they needed someone to help create a new security program for a section of the department. I don't know any of the details about it, because they're strictly on a need-to-know basis."

"Why didn't you take the job?" Tony asked.

"Because it's in Africa, Tony," he cocked his head. "And it was a temporary thing. I would've been there for a year, tops."

"They tell ya how much the job was gonna pay?" Tony asked.

"It's not important," Tim rolled his eyes, hoping he wouldn't have to explain further. Luckily, Gibbs gave Tony a look of warning.

"The point of me askin'," Gibbs said, and turned back to face Tim, "Is because the person they ended up hiring, is one of the three officers who were killed."

McGee seemed a little something more than shocked. His brow furrowed and his eyes darted around as he tried to throw together an audible sentence, "D- do they know w-why?" he asked.

"Might've been to gain some kind of knowledge of the program he created," Gibbs explained.

"And they need McGeek to figure it out before they can use it against them?" Tony surmised.

"They asked for us by name," Gibbs explained. "Each of us. But yeah, I think they specifically wanted to bring you in, McGee. The rest of us will need to figure out who and how."

"And why," Ziva added. "It is possible that it was a coincidence that this programmer was killed."

"Gibbs doesn't believe in coincidences," Tony said.

"We will still need to prove his 'gut feeling'," she reminded them.

"So why drag Ducky halfway across the world?" Tony inquired.

"'Cause the other two officers were the only medical examiners on base," Gibbs replied. "And Duck has high enough security clearance."

"I dunno... This almost seems staged, Boss," Tony said. "Why'd they ask for us specifically?"

"Not sure. But I've got Vance and Abby doin' some digging. Meanwhile, by the time we get there, it'll be ten in the morning at the base. So you might wanna figure out when to get some shuteye."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**1030 hours, Djibouti, Africa...**

Corporal Edward Lanswerth escorted the team to their accommodations. "You'll be staying on base in the East-wing barracks. Used to be a storage room, but we had them set something up for you."

"Storage room?" Tony asked. "I don't suppose there's a bathroom close by..."

"Across the hall," Lanswerth told him. "It's climate controlled, and honestly, it's this or bunk separately in different wings. We figured you'd be more comfortable working someplace away from everyone else."

"I'm sure we'll manage," Ducky said as they entered the room. There were five cots set up on either side of the large room, and a fair-sized table and chairs against one wall.

"Agent David, if you'd be more comfortable bunking in the women's bunker-" Lanswerth began, but she held up a hand.

"I will be fine, thank you," she moved to the furthest cot and dropped her bag onto it.

"When do we start, Corporal?" Gibbs asked as he turned to face him.

"I've got men ready to escort you to the crime scene, when you're ready. I can take Doctor Mallard to examine the bodies."

"I trust you documented the scene before removing them," Gibbs confirmed.

"Case file is on its way here, now. We bagged and tagged everything; photographed first, of course."

"If you've got an investigative team here," Gibbs said, "Then why'd you call us? Why not just find an M.E?"

"Our investigative unit has been detained," he explained.

"Why is that?" Gibbs inquired.

"Because there's suspicions that they might have been involved."

"Who bagged and tagged?" Tony asked.

"Corporal Ardin and myself, Sir," he replied. "After we got the call in, and the anonymous tip off about the possibility of some of our officers being involved, we were ordered to collect everything and wait until you arrived to proceed."

"Did you wear gloves?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"And where's Corporal Ardin?"

"He's bringing the evidence here, now, Sir. But I feel I should warn you, Sir..."

"What's that?" Gibbs cocked his head.

"I don't think it was our officers who were involved in this." Gibbs narrowed his eyes.

"Do you have an idea of who might have been?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir. There's a group of natives that call themselves the 'Tau'. They're a resistance group, proclaiming not to be connected to any government. But they've been fairly active in attempting to make us go away."

"What have they been doing?" McGee asked.

"Usually, small things. Setting traps in wooded areas where we sometimes do training exercises. Letting air out of our vehicle tires... Just giving us a hard time. But we think they may have stepped up in their tactics."

"Who is 'we'?" Ziva asked.

"Anyone who's encountered them. A few dozen of us have seen them."

"How many are there?" she asked.

"We're not sure," he replied. "We know there are at least a dozen we've personally seen. But they stay well hidden. And since they've become more of a nuisance, we estimate they might have recruited a lot more. Possibly hundreds."

"So...you have no idea who they are, where they are, and if they were even involved in this?" Tony summed up. "And what exactly are they resisting now?"

"What people usually resist against, Agent DiNozzo," he said, "Change. They don't want us here."

"No offense, Corporal," Ziva chimed in, "But you have thousands of soldiers. Your primary goal is for security. Why have you not scouted these men out and removed the enemy?"

"Because we have no physical proof... and politics; public relations...that would be a nightmare. Don't get me started. We just wanna get to the bottom of this, and we need your help. We think they took out our programmer in an effort to gain access to a new security program he created. If they figure out how to use it, we could be in for some major trouble. Not just here on base, either." He turned to look at McGee. "That's why we specifically asked for your team, Sir. We need you to figure out what they might have taken, and find a way to override the program."

"What makes you think they got anything from your programmer?" Tim asked.

"There's evidence that...he may have been tortured before he was killed..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**more to come... **


	2. Chapter 2

**Shouts outs to my reviewers: kawaii popcorn desu, NixaDex, diana teo, LittleHogwartsGirl, anci2506, preciouspup, jgomez921, liberty89, sparkiebunny, tintin11, magical-archer, ncischick09, carismum, and Helix82. Thanks so much for your awesome comments! Helps me to wanna continue faster ;).**

**Also, thanks to all of you who added this to alerts—makes me happeh!**

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Tony and Gibbs rode side by side in the back of the Pinzgauer all-terrain vehicle, accompanied by a few well-armed Naval security officers. "I take it we're going into a danger zone," Tony smirked nervously.

"Wasn't considered a dangerous area until recently, Sir," one of them replied.

"This resistance group," Gibbs started, "The 'tau'; are they carrying weapons, normally?"

"They're fairly primitive, Sir. They don't have fire-powered weapons. They carry knives, machetes, blow-darts with non-lethal poisons...that sort of thing."

Gibbs glanced at the officer's name tape, "McNeal," he read and looked back at his face, "If they're non-poisonous, what makes you think they're out to kill your men?"

"They've been scaling up their tactics lately, Sir...uh, Agent Gibbs," McNeal said.

"Just Gibbs will be fine. Besides the three dead officers, what led you to believe they're taking greater action?"

McNeal glanced briefly at the two soldiers to his right, before looking back at Gibbs, "Truthfully, Gibbs, I haven't personally witnessed any higher amount of force until now."

The officer whose name tape read 'Smith', leaned forward toward the two agents, glancing briefly toward the front of the vehicle to make sure the officers up front weren't eavesdropping, "Honestly," he began, "We have suspicions that it wasn't the tau acting alone. We think the officers who were killed were somehow involved with the tau to begin with."

"What makes you suspect that?" Tony asked, leaning a bit forward as well.

"One of our training groups encountered a small group of Tau members during a training exercise," McNeal told them.

Then the third officer leaned forward, "Couple of newbies took two of them down," he told them. "We had no choice but to bring them back to the base and try to save them."

"They were both shot," McNeal told them, "It's an hour's ride back to the base. Our doc at the time, tried for a good couple of hours to save them. But they both died; lost too much blood."

"What does any of this have to do with the officers who were killed?" Tony asked.

"Those doctors were also our M.E.s," he informed them.

"The men who were killed..." Gibbs confirmed.

"It doesn't strike you as odd, that two docs and a computer geek were out in the wooded training area in the middle of the night?" Smith asked in a hushed voice as he glanced nervously toward the front.

"The thought crossed our minds," Tony said.

"You think they were meeting with the Tau," Gibbs surmised.

Smith nodded, "I can't think of any other reason why they'd be out there."

"You think the doctors had some deep-hearted conversation with the injured Tau members before they died?" Tony asked as his eyes fixed back to Gibbs.

"Doesn't exactly explain why the programmer was with them, or why they all ended up dead," Gibbs said.

"Meeting gone bad..." Tony thought out loud.

"Or someone found out about it and decided to eliminate the problem," Gibbs added.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Tim said as he typed into the keyboard in the computer lab.

"Hacking into government files?" Ziva questioned as she looked over the bagged evidence on the table.

"Working for these people," he corrected. "I turned down the job, and they still managed to drag me here."

"Relax, McGee. You will not be stuck here for a year, at least," she sighed. "There is nothing helpful to our case in this evidence. No prints; nothing. Perhaps Ducky will find something."

"I believe I have," they turned toward Ducky's voice, to see him come through the door. He shut the door behind him, then made his way toward the two agents. "Corporal Lanswerth was correct in his assumption that the young programmer had been tortured prior to his death," he told them. "But the methods in which he was tortured, led me to believe that it was carried out my someone with medical experience. That's when I discovered several missing instruments in the autopsy bay. The fact that the three of them were all killed in a similar fashion, bled out from a stabbing would to the abdominal area, and the doctors had no signs of being tortured themselves, leads me to believe that the doctors _administered_ the torture."

"But who killed the doctors and the programmer?" Ziva asked.

"That is a question in which _you_ will need to discover the answer to," he told her.

"I'll call Gibbs," McGee said, "Fill him in on your findings..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Oh man...what is it, a hundred degrees out right now?" Tony asked as they trudged out of the vehicle.

"Ninety-one," Smith corrected. "Not the best time of day to come out here."

"But our best bet for not running into the Tau," McNeal told them. "They tend to work under the fall of darkness."

"Don't they have to worry about wild animals...like lions?" Tony asked, swatting a mosquito on his neck.

"They _are_ the lions, Agent DiNozzo," Smith said.

"'Tau' means 'lion'," McNeal elaborated.

"Oh..." Tony swatted another mosquito. Gibbs fished into his pocket and tossed a bottle to Tony, who caught it with ease.

"Don't wanna get malaria, DiNozzo, ya gotta take precautions," Gibbs said.

"Thanks, Boss," he said as he began spraying an excessive amount of the repellant over his entire body, coughing a bit when he breathed some in.

"Here we are," McNeal called as they approached the taped off crime scene.

"How long were they here before being found?" Gibbs asked.

"We suspect they were here overnight," McNeal said. "We found them during a routine exercise at 0400."

"And you're sure it happened in this spot? Why wouldn't they have been discovered by animals first? With all the blood here, you'd think something would've carried them off for dinner," Tony said.

"Maybe they weren't here as long as you thought," Gibbs said, looking at McNeal.

McNeal shrugged, "I'm honestly not sure. I'm just relaying what I was told."

"By Corporal Lanswerth?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"What's your opinion of the Corporal?" Gibbs inquired.

"Don't know him all that well. I've had a few beers with him in the past, but we were usually with a large group of people. Never talked much to him, but he seems like a good guy."

"How'd they get out here?" Tony pulled their attention to him as he looked around. "They wouldn't have hiked out here in the middle of the night..."

"There were no vehicles here when we found them," Smith said. "Plenty of tire-tracks, but that's because we're always brought out here in the same type of vehicle we came here in just now. Those are the only tracks we've seen."

"Which could mean that's what they came in," Gibbs said.

"Which would mean someone drove it back," Tony added, "Which means someone else is involved with the tau."

"Or someone's coverin' up for them," Gibbs supplied, then his satellite phone began to ring. He fished it from his pocket and held it to his ear. "Yeah, Gibbs." He listened as McGee informed him of Ducky's findings. "What about the evidence? Anything that'll help?"

Tony wandered into the bloodied area and knelt down as he scanned the expanse from its center. There were three obvious blood pools, no larger than a few feet in diameter each. He narrowed his eyes as he came to a revelation, and he looked up at Gibbs who was speaking on the phone still.

"I want you and Ziva to check the vehicle mileage logs; see if there's any discrepancies. Any vehicle that's been used in the past forty-eight hours needs to be checked over for anything that'd link all three victims being in the same vehicle." As he ended the call, his eyes met Tony's. "Duck thinks the may have been responsible for torturing the programmer," he told him.

"That said," Tony replied as he stood from his position, "I think they tortured him somewhere else before they all came out here. So it shouldn't be too difficult to find which vehicle they used."

"There'd be blood," Gibbs agreed.

"Unless they did it in another area of the woods," McNeal offered. Both agents turned to look at him. "Well, I figure someone would've heard something if it'd happened at the base. Not to mention, blood in one of the vehicles would've been reported by now."

"Unless one of the Tau took it," Tony suggested.

Smith shook his head, "Missing vehicle would've been reported by now, too."

"You seem pretty sure of that," Gibbs revealed.

"We have some of the most anal-retentive inventory staff known to man, Sir," Smith told him. "I once borrowed one of the MUVs to meet up with some of the guys at a...well, it was a...what I mean to say, Sir, is we were grabbin' a few beers. Didn't have authorization... but my point is, I would've gotten away with it, had Finkle not been on VID. Reported the discrepancy in mileage."

"Finkle," Tony laughed, glancing briefly at Gibbs before making his grin disappear, "So uh...this Finkle guy on VID often?"

"_She_," he corrected, "Is on duty every weekday morning, Sir. All other officers assigned to that duty, report to her at the end of every shift."

"So, theoretically, she'd have noticed a discrepancy if there was one that morning," Gibbs surmised.

"Then they had to have gotten here some other way," Tony said.

"Like we told you, there were no other track types..." McNeal said.

"Not the way we came in," Gibbs said as he looked around the wooded area. "But they might not have come that way," he started towards the trees.

"Sir, I don't recommend going in there unarmed," McNeal warned.

"I'm not unarmed," Gibbs said as he continued. Tony glanced at McNeal for a brief moment before following after Gibbs.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"You're sure there are no discrepancies?" McGee asked the female officer.

"I'm a hundred percent sure, Agent McGee," she told him flatly. "I did the inventory myself the night those officers went missing, and the morning after. Everything is accounted for, and mileage didn't increase at all during those times. I wouldn't have made a mistake."

"Thank you," Ziva said as she pulled McGee with her as she walked away.

"Ziva, we still have to search the vehicles," he argued.

"No, we do not," she retorted as they made their way away from the loud room. "She is lying," she told him.

"What? How can you-"

"Shh... McGee, she is hiding something. That much is clear. But if she is good enough to cover the paper trail, then it is safe to assume that she also cleaned up after herself. We will not find our answers here. Perhaps if you do some more digging into the programmer's computer files-"

"Lieutenant Krieger," he said. She looked at him with question. "That's his name, Ziva. Not 'the programmer'. He was a person."

"I did not mean to imply otherwise," she defended as the rounded the corner.

"Sorry...I just...I dunno."

"You are taking this personally, because you believe it could have been _you_," she realized. He glanced at her without objecting. "This is a very dangerous place to be, McGee," she said as they entered their bunker. "Surely, he was aware of this."

"Aware that it was dangerous out _there_, which is why staying inside with the computer was supposed to be safe."

"I do not believe he _chose_ to go out there," she said.

"Which is what's even more troubling. Someone he was supposed to be able to trust, ended up responsible for his death."

"We are in that same position of possibility every day on the job," she reminded him.

"Not the same," he squinted as he sat down at the computer. "But I guess I understand now, why they offered so much for this job. And I'm really glad I turned it down."

"How much did they offer?" she asked out of curiosity.

"You'll think I'm a fool."

"Obviously, it was not a foolish decision to turn it down," she reminded him. He looked at her with an unsure brow.

"350k," he told her.

"For one year?" her tone was high-pitched. He nodded and turned back to the computer. "What could they have asked him to do, worth that much money?" she wondered as she watched the screen.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"We should start heading back," Smith said as he kept close behind Tony. "Sun will be going down soon, and we don't wanna be out here for that."

"Hold on," Tony stopped when he spotted blood on the trunk of one of the trees. He pulled out his phone to call Gibbs, who had veered off in another direction with McNeal about a half-mile back. "Boss, I think I may have found where they held the programmer. If you head back where we left, we're about a half mi-" his sentence was cut short when he felt a stinging pain in his head, and the world went black...

*~.~*

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs looked at his phone to make sure they hadn't dropped the call. "Tony! Can you hear me?" Without taking the phone from his ear, he turned to McNeal. "Can you contact Smith?"

The officer picked up his two-way, "Smith, you there?" he called. No answer. "Smith, this is McNeal, do you read?" Again, no reply. He shook his head.

"We need to go back, now!" Gibbs said as he turned and started heading back in the direction they came from. "DiNozzo, we're comin' back. Hold on..."

*~.~*

"It is getting dark," Ziva said as she reentered the room where McGee was hard at work on the computer. "They should have been back by now."

"They might be on the way," he said, glancing up briefly at her.

"Well, I was able to track down the personnel files of everyone who has worked with Krieger or the medical examiners within the past year. Luckily, they were not very popular. There are only about fifteen to go through."

"Lanswerth get those for you?" he asked.

"Actually, no. I talked to Captain Rowly. Or rather, Ducky managed to talk to him, first. He is having tea with him, then heading back here to assist us if we should need the help."

"Well, I'd love to take a break from staring at this screen," Tim said as he spun the chair around to face her.

"Feel free," she plopped down on her cot as McGee stood and grabbed a handful of the files, then plopped down on his own cot. After a few moments of searching through the names, Ziva sat forward. "Is one of the officers who escorted Gibbs and Tony, named 'Smith'?"

"Uh...yeah, I think so. But there's probably a hundred Smiths on base."

"Corporal Lanswerth is in here as well," she said. "Perhaps we should call and check in on them?"

"What's Smith's first name and rank?" he asked as he pulled out his phone and dialed Gibbs' number.

"Jacob. He is a security officer," she seemed a bit worried.

"That might be him," he said as he waited for the other line to pick up. "Boss," he said when Gibbs answered, "We're going through some personnel files for known associates of the victims. Officer Jacob Smith is in here; just wanted to let you know-"

_"We lost contact with him and DiNozzo,"_ he told them, slightly out of breath. _"Tony's still on the other line but he's not responding. Any way you can track his exact location?"_

"I can try," Tim said as he hurried back to the computer and began typing. "How far away from them do you think you are?"

_"Can't be more than a half mile at this point. We've been heading back where we split off; I'm standing in the exact spot now, actually..."_

"I've got your signal, Boss. Tony is...a little over a half mile south of where you're at. That's assuming he's still with his phone, of course..."

_"You keep trackin' it, and if it moves, you call me back,"_ he said before ending the call.

"What happened?" Ziva asked, concerned.

"Gibbs lost communication with Tony," he told her. "Tony was with Smith..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Tony awoke, sitting up against a tree; his head swimming, but a sharp, aching pain in his gut. He could hear a faint voice...his eyes scanned the ground around him and caught sight of his phone. Reaching over to pick it up, the pain in his gut flared, causing him to yell out and grab it with his other hand.

_"DiNozzo?" _he heard faintly coming from the phone that was now clutched in his hand. He brought it to his ear and listened as he tried to regain his breath through the haze of pain. _"Tony, you there?"_

"Boss?" his voice was raspier than he realized.

_"You okay? We're headed your way..."_

"Don't think I'm okay, Boss..." he said as he looked down where he held his stomach.

_"Smith with you?"_

Tony looked up and around, "I don't see him."

_"You hurt?"_

"Yeah... yeah, Boss, I think...think I've been stabbed..." he pulled his hand slightly away from where it held, and blood gushed from the wound before he quickly replaced the pressure. "Shit, Boss...I'm not doing well here..."

_"Hang on, Tony..."_

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**tbc... rnr plz!**


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs ran at full speed as he continued to talk into the phone, trying to get Tony to keep talking. But he hadn't responded for the past couple of minutes, and that terrified Gibbs. It didn't stop him from talking, though, and he'd continued as McNeal trailed close behind him, phoning in for back-up to the coordinates. They would send a search party to find Smith, and medics. But it was an hour drive to the base...they'd have to meet them half-way.

"Tony!" Gibbs stuffed his phone into his pocket as he spotted his agent ahead. Tony was on his side, curled up into a ball. One of his hands was pressed against his abdomen; the other clutched his phone close by his head, but not to his ear.

Gibbs quickly knelt beside him, placing fingers to his neck in search for a pulse when he didn't see movement. But Tony's eyes shot open, startled at the sudden presence, and Gibbs moved his hand to Tony's arm. "Tony, can you hear me?" he asked.

"Yeah, Boss..." he tried to hold back his panic.

"How bad is it?"

"Dunno," he breathed, "But it hurts like a sonofabitch."

"We've got help comin'. But we gotta meet em' halfway. Gotta get you to the truck."

"Kay," he moved to push himself up, grunting at the pain that ran through him from the movement.

"Hey, take it easy," Gibbs said, "Let me help." McNeal positioned himself at Tony's other side as the two of them helped him to stand, carefully.

Tony groaned; growled really, "No...can't do this..." he said through gritted teeth as he lurched his body forward.

"Yeah, ya can, DiNozzo," Gibbs wrapped an arm around the back of Tony's waist. "Lemme take over, and you put your arm 'round my shoulders," he moved his other hand over Tony's, where he was putting pressure on his wound. Tony met his eyes for a moment and swallowed, nervously. "Ready?" Tony took a shaky breath, then nodded.

The exchange was quick, but painful, and Tony tried desperately to bite back to grunt that forced its way out. His now freed arm struggled its path around Gibbs' shoulders before gripping the sleeve of Gibbs' shirt in his fingers. "Let's go," Tony urged as his stance wavered a bit.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Ducky came quickly into the team's temporary bunker room toward his cot, where his luggage was tucked underneath. The troubled look on his face had both Ziva and Tim concerned. "Everything okay, Ducky?" McGee asked.

The M.E looked up from his medical bag, glancing between the two agents that were looking questioningly at him. "I'm afraid that everything is, indeed, not okay," he said. "Anthony's been stabbed."

"What?" Ziva's brows shot up, and McGee swallowed.

"I just received a call from Jethro," he explained. "They're driving him back here, now."

"But it's a...it's an hour's ride back here," McGee said with a furrowed brow.

"They've sent another team out to meet them. There'll be medics who will get into the truck with him once they meet. Then the rest of them will continue on to find the missing officer, and hopefully, whomever did this to Tony."

"They already left? Shouldn't we...shouldn't _we_ go?" McGee asked.

"You should stay here," Ducky told him. "I'm going to prepare for his arrival in the medical bay. I'm hoping the surgeon they have on staff is reliable..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

It was ten minutes into the ride back, when Tony gave up all hope of holding back against the pain. Gibbs held him, partially in his lap; one arm securing Tony around his chest, so he wouldn't roll off. The other, still applying pressure on the wound. They were seated on the floor, up into a corner beside the bench; one of Gibbs' feet pressed across to the other side, securing they stay in one place as the truck sped at full-speed toward the base.

Tony's right hand squeezed against the one Gibbs had over his wound, and his left arm laid absentmindedly at his side as he gripped his boss's pants-leg. Tony's legs squirmed; feet sliding slightly away before he'd pull them back again. His breathing became rapid; almost like wheezing as it came in quick bursts through his pain. "Boss..." his voice struggled as he spoke through the haze. "I know I've...said this before, but...this is not...how I pictured...dying..."

"You're not gonna die, Tony," he held him tighter, speaking in a self-forced calm manner at Tony's ear.

"I'd really like...to believe you...but..." his hands tightened further, "God!" he yelped, and Gibbs felt him press back.

"Breathe, Tony," he told him when he felt him holding his breath.

"Please, Boss...please just...knock me out or...something...god..."

"Halfway there, DiNozzo. Just hold on."

"I don't think I can," came in the form of a sob.

"Yes, you can! I do not give you permission to die, Tony! You hear me?"

"I h- I he... I hear you, Boss...'m sorry..."

"Don't apologize," he told him. His eyes stung with tears as he watched Tony continue to struggle; hearing the suffering in his voice, and the sharpness of each breath he took.

"'m sorry...shoulda seen..."

"What'd I say? This isn't your fault, Tony."

"Lost Smith...could be dead..."

"Smith was supposed to have _your_ back," he told him. "You did what you were supposed to."

"Doesn't...feel like...I did, Boss..." Tony's grip seemed to loosen, some. And Gibbs heard his breaths become more shallow.

"Hey...you stay with me, Tony. Talk to me."

"What ya...wanna know..."

"Tell me somethin' I don't know about you," he suggested off the top of his head. He actually felt Tony laugh.

"I don't think...that even...exists..." his breathing became more rapid and desperate.

"Gotta be somethin'," Gibbs tried to distract his agent. "Best memory on the job?"

"Easy one..." he said. "When you...told me...I...made you...proud..." Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment. Then he felt and heard Tony swallow, then groan, "L...love you...Boss..." he said as his hand fell from Gibbs', and into his lap.

"Don't you start sayin' goodbyes, DiNozzo," he said, sternly.

"'m sorry..." his head fell limply back onto Gibbs' chest.

"Tony?" he rasped, and felt the truck come to a fast halt, causing him to grasp Tony tighter against him. "Tony, come on! Wake up!" The back doors flew open as two medics climbed aboard, closing the doors behind them. And he felt the truck start up again. "He just now passed out," Gibbs told them.

"Okay, Sir, we can take it from here," one of them said. "We need to lay him flat..." Gibbs allowed them to take over and he sat there and watched them as they worked. It was as if he were in a trance...he couldn't even understand what they were saying, now. Couldn't understand what was happening. All he could focus on was his agent...watching; waiting for him to open his eyes...

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Gibbs?" he heard Ziva's voice, and seemed to blink back into a reality he hadn't realized he'd slipped away from. "Gibbs, are you okay?" he felt her hand on his arm and soon, he focused on her face in front of him.

"Ziva...where..." he realized he was sitting off the edge of the truck and he spun around to look inside. "Where's Tony?" he asked when he saw the pool of blood on the floor of the truck, but no Tony.

"They took him to sickbay, Boss," he turned toward McGee's voice and saw his paled demeanor. "Ducky's there working with them."

"You guys okay?" Gibbs asked in a small voice.

"We are fine," Ziva replied. "We are worried about _you_, however."

He shook his head, "I wasn't hurt," he pushed himself off the edge of the truck to stand, and realized there was a blanket around his shoulders. He shrugged it off and set it down in the truck. Upon moving to walk, his balance was suddenly out of control and he felt himself begin to waver.

"Boss..." Tim caught his arm as Ziva caught the other. "Ducky said you might be in shock," the sight of Tony's blood that seemed to drench Gibbs' shirt and arms almost as badly as it did Tony when they saw him for the brief moment before the medical team whisked him away, caused Tim's stomach to churn.

"I'm fine," he insisted, "Just need some water. Where's sickbay?"

"Let us bring you back to our bunker, first, so you can get cleaned up," Tim insisted. Gibbs glared at him. "B-boss, do you remember speaking with Ducky?"

Gibbs narrowed his eyes; his gaze shifting slightly as he tried to recall...

_"They're quite prepared for this, Jethro. You have to allow them to take him to sickbay. I'll be with him...you need to trust me..."_

Gibbs nodded and focused back on Tim.

"We'll help you get cleaned up, then we'll take you there, okay?" McGee felt slightly out of place as he attempted to give Gibbs direction. But the amount of concern that overwhelmed him, for both Gibbs and Tony, superseded any feelings of inferiority he might have had. And in all honesty, it broke his heart when Gibbs allowed them to lead him to the bunker without any resistance or argument.

Gibbs was practically unaware of their journey to the shower room across from their bunker. But McGee was in front of him, now; his hands firmly on his boss's shoulders as he spoke to him. When Gibbs focused on his face, he realized he was being spoken to.

"Boss? You with us?" he asked with a furrowed brow. Gibbs nodded and looked around before settling back on Tim's face. "Do you want me to start the shower for you?"

"I need my bag," he told him.

"I'll go get it for you," Tim told him. "Are...are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Tim," he narrowed his eyes for a moment then turned. "Just leave the bag on the sink. I'll be in the shower..."

McGee nodded, though Gibbs couldn't see him, then headed out and toward the bunker. He barely registered when Ziva approached him as he shuffled through Gibbs' luggage. "Is he okay, McGee?" Tim jumped a bit in surprise and turned to look at her.

"Gibbs? Yeah...uh...I think so. Just getting his bag for him. He's taking a shower," he reached out to pick up the bag and realized his hand was shaking. His gaze fixed on it as if it he could will it to stop. But then Ziva reached out and took it, and he looked at her. Her fear and concern matched his own. "Y-you think Tony's gonna be okay?" he asked in a shaky voice.

"I do not know," she said. "He was out there for over an hour. By the look of the truck, he lost a lot of blood..." her gaze dropped to his chest for a moment before flicking back to his face. "But he is in good hands. They will do everything they can."

"What if it's too late?" his voice cracked and he grabbed the bag and stood. Ziva had no response for him but a brief drop in whatever brave face she'd been managing to hold. "Go," he told her. "Go see what you can find out. I'll keep an eye on Gibbs." She nodded without argument, and turned to make her way out. Tim carried the bag across the hall, into the shower room.

He heard the water running and spotted the bloody pile of clothes on the floor. As he set the bag down on the sink, he heard the sound of retching coming from the stall and froze. Tim listened for another moment, confirming that his boss was, indeed, heaving; unsure of whether anything was coming up.

"Boss... you okay?" he asked as he approached the side of the shower stall. He heard Gibbs cough a couple more times before taking a breath.

"Yeah, McGee," he said in a raspy voice. Truth was, as he'd watched Tony's blood circle the drain as it washed off of him, he'd remembered Tony's words in the truck as he'd held him. And he'd been so sure that Tony would come through this, and be okay, that he hadn't returned any of the sentiments. He didn't tell him he _still _made him proud; didn't tell him he was like a son to him...

The thought that he might not make it, overwhelmed him to the very core. And being too stubborn to let out the sobs that threatened to wrack his body, he threw up the meager contents of his stomach instead. The sound of McGee's voice had then pulled him back out of that pit of darkness that'd begun to consume him, and he went about composing himself as he reached over to turn off the shower.

"You still in here?" he asked.

"Uh...yeah, Boss. I can leave-"

"Could ya hand me a towel?" he held his hand out of the stall, and Tim hurriedly grabbed a towel from the rack and put it in Gibbs' hand.

"Ziva's on her way to see h- how it's going...in sickbay," he told him. Gibbs came out of the stall with the towel wrapped around his waist and went to his bag, opening it up as McGee turned, respectively, to give him privacy as he dressed. "We should've been out there with you guys," Tim said as his eyes fixed somewhere on the tiled floor in front of him.

"We each had an officer with us," Gibbs reminded him as he put his shirt on over his head. "Extra eyes and extra guns didn't stop it from happening."

"Yeah, but there was no reason to trust either of them. There were suspicions that the tau had help from the inside. If we'd gone with you instead of them..."

"Smith might be a victim in this, too, McGee," he said as he pulled on his pants. "Too early to tell what happened out there. Tony didn't see who did this to him."

Tim turned when he heard Gibbs zip up his bag and saw him gather up the bloody articles of clothing into the damp towel. Trying to be of some help, Tim grabbed the bag and waited for Gibbs before turning to head back to the bunker.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked him as he set the bag down.

As Gibbs stuffed the clothes into a plastic bag, he looked up at Tim, "Are _you_?" he asked, seeing his shaking hands. He watched the younger agent as he seemed to have only just _now_ allowed himself to consider that question, personally. Tim's eyes drifted somewhere past his boss as he felt the sudden floodgate open, allowing him to feel the full impact of his own fears.

Gibbs set the plastic bag down as he focused his attention on his now trembling friend. He stepped closer to him and pushed aside his own uncertainties as he considered him. "Do you know why I turned down the job offer here?" Tim asked once his eyes focused back on Gibbs'.

"Not exactly," he replied with curiosity.

"My first thought wasn't about the fact that I'm...fairly susceptible to being negatively affected by foreign plant-life or...water." Gibbs smirked for a fraction of a second. "And it definitely wasn't the money they offered..."

"Heard it was pretty amazing pay," Gibbs said.

"Yeah. But ya know what my first thought was?" he let out what could have been a laugh or a sob, "I didn't wanna leave my family..." he shook his head when Gibbs narrowed his eyes, realizing he didn't understand. "Not my parents and Sarah. Yeah, I'd miss them, but they'd be there when I got back. Nothing would change. I'm talking about you and Ziva...and Tony," he swallowed. "I couldn't even imagine being gone for that long and still having a place on the team. And I couldn't...I _wouldn't_," he clarified, "Give that up. I don't know what I'd do if something ever..."

"Tim," Gibbs put his hands on the agent's shoulders, "I'm glad you decided not to go; for more than the obvious reasons. But you'll always have a place on my team," he told him. "No way we'd ever be able to replace you."

"No one could ever replace _Tony_," his voice cracked. "They found another programmer when I turned down the offer. There's plenty of people out there that can do my job."

"Yeah, you're right," he said as he put his arms down at his sides. "But none of them would be you. Can't replace family, McGee. Like you said, that's what we are."

McGee considered his response, then his thoughts quickly returned to the near and present concern. "Tony's gonna be okay," he said, trying to convince _himself_. "He's survived worse. He- he'll be fine," his eyes shifted.

"Let's go see him," Gibbs suggested in a low voice. McGee met his eyes again, hoping to find confirmation; maybe hope. But he knew his boss was just as uncertain as he was.

Tim nodded and spun toward the door, leading the way toward sickbay with Gibbs at his side...

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**tbc!**

**OMG tonight's episode was so great! Makes up for the not-so-awesome past couple of eps. I am STOKED about it, and I can't wait till next week. So awesometown!!! Love love loved it! **

**Anyway ::breathes:: lemme know how you liked this chapter, pleeease! **


	4. Chapter 4

It had been two grueling hours since Tony was taken into sickbay; without a word from anyone about his condition. Long and countless moments of pacing, seemingly trading shifts between the three helpless agents left to wait. A few officers came and went; some giving updates about the search, and apologies for what had happened. Others bringing them coffee, though Gibbs didn't derive as much pleasure from it as he usually would have. Though mindful and courteous to their situation, not a single word was said to put their minds in any state of ease...

Gibbs had downed the last drop of his cup of coffee just as Ducky came from the operating room; standard green, generic surgical scrubs marked by Tony's blood. His eyes showed the strain from the past couple of hours of worry, but his face wasn't marked with any obvious indication as to its outcome.

Ducky took a breath as the three agents surrounded him, seeking answers, with questioning eyes. "Anthony is critical, but stable," he began, giving them all the long-awaited feeling of relief. "The wound lacerated his small intestine, which is why he was in such a great deal of pain," he said as he looked at Gibbs. "But they were able to find and repair it quickly. He lost a lot of blood which required a transfusion; that much was to be expected, given the amount of time it took to get him back here."

"Can we see him, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"They're setting him up in recovery, Jethro. He'll be sleeping for a good while, I'm sure. But there is something you should see," he told them as he turned back toward the doors, and they followed him. "The image they took of Tony's wound," he pointed out the picture up on the light screen in the operating room, "Is in the exact position of the fatal stab wounds as our three victims."

"So the tau did this to him?" McGee asked.

"At first glance, one might assume so. However, the knife used to wound Tony, has different dimensions. If I were a betting man, I would say it was a military-issued survival knife," Ducky said in a hushed voice.

"So...Smith did this?" Tim narrowed his eyes.

"Or one of the tau took Smith's knife when they grabbed him," Gibbs suggested.

"We will have to locate Smith in order to figure that out," Ziva said. "Or the knife..."

"There are several teams out looking for both, right now," Ducky reminded them. "I think it would be best if you held out until morning. You need to rest."

"But you just said it's a possibility that this could've been one of _them_ that did this to Tony," McGee argued. "We should be out there-"

"Ducky's right, Tim," Gibbs told him. "Let 'em do the hard labor."

"Gibbs-" Ziva began to object, but Gibbs turned to her.

"There's one thing they don't have covered," he told her, "And that's whoever might be tryin' to cover their asses _here_. I need you two to find out where Smith sleeps; keep an eye out for anyone that might get near his stuff."

"Should we not confiscate his belongings and look through it ourselves?" Ziva asked.

"Not interested in what he's got," he shook his head. "But who might think we'd find something if we look." After a moment, Tim nodded, and he turned to leave with Ziva close behind.

"You should really be getting some rest, Jethro," Ducky told him.

"I wanna see he's okay, for myself," he told him. "And I'm not leavin' him alone. Not while we don't know who to trust."

"Well you can certainly trust me."

"Yeah, Duck, I can. But you don't have a gun. Not to mention, you've been bustin' your ass all day. You need rest, too. So go get cleaned up and get some sleep, and you can take over in the morning."

"I'll admit to needing a bit of rest," he said, "But I'll be back to check on the both of you _before_ morning. In the meantime, you may want to give the director a call to let him know what's happened."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

When Ziva and McGee found their way to Smith's bunker, they were surprised to already see someone looking through his footlocker. They watched him from the doorway, unnoticed. "Should we go talk to him?" McGee asked quietly.

"We should wait and see what he is looking for," she whispered.

"Does it really matter at this point? If there's something in there that'll pin Smith to the crime, we can find it ourselves. Whoever this guy is, he knows just as well as everyone else, that Smith is missing. I'm fairly sure he's not lookin' to borrow a tee shirt."

Ziva fixed a glare on him for a moment, before seeing the logic to his statement. "Alright," she said simply, and walked into the bunker. Tim followed her, but her pace was much quicker than he'd anticipated. She reached the officer before he even had the chance to realize he was being approached, turned him around, and forced him up against the wall.

"What the hell?" he started to push her away, but McGee pulled out his badge.

"NCIS," he identified for them. His name tape identified the officer as Claude.

"Are you not aware that the officer whom owns the locker you were just rummaging through, is missing? Quite possibly dead, in fact," Ziva asked the man.

"Yeah," he replied. "Hey, look...I'm not gonna take off, so could you just let go of me?" he asked, looking past Ziva and McGee. Ziva turned her head to see what he was looking at, and caught sight of the smug faces of some other officers, seemingly amused at the situation.

"Is it embarrassing you to be so obviously overpowered by a woman?" she smirked.

"I don't hit girls," he retorted.

"Probably a really good decision, especially right now," McGee told him. Ziva slowly released her grip on the officer. "What were you looking for in Smith's locker?" Tim asked.

"Evidence," he smirked.

"Evidence of what?" Ziva squinted.

"Of why the tau killed Smith," he replied.

Tim furrowed a brow, "We said he was missing. We don't know that he's dead."

"Oh he's dead," Claude told them. "When they take you, they kill you."

"They've done this before?" McGee asked.

Claude glared at him for a long moment before looking back at Ziva, "Why do you think you were called here, NCIS?"

"To investigate into the possibility that three dead officers could have been killed by someone here," Ziva said.

Claude shook his head, "That's bullshit," he said, looking past them once more. "Is there somewhere more private we can discuss this?"

Ziva turned her head to look at McGee.

*~.~*

Back in their bunker, Ducky was still quite awake as the two agents had walked in with Claude. But he was glad to have been up, as talking with the officer began to clear some cobwebs from the case. "The officers you've been told were 'detained', are actually under protective custody," Claude told them. "They're the ones in danger of being killed by the tau."

"How is it that you know this?" Ziva asked. "You are an entry-level officer."

"Because I heard them..." he said as his focus shifted. "I know why they're doing this..."

_**One week ago...**_

_ "What the hell are they so damned happy about?" Claude asked Smith who climbed into the passenger seat of the truck; a team of eight hooting and hollering soldiers, piled into the back benches._

_ "Training exercise turned into a hero mission," Smith grinned._

_ "What's that supposed to mean?"_

_ "Jackson spotted one of those damn tau members, and the whole team set off after him. We found one of their little hidey-holes. Took 'em all out!" he exclaimed excitedly, but in a hushed voice._

_ "H- how many were there?" Claude asked, unsure of whether or not to be appalled, or satisfied._

_ "It was a fairly even fight," he said. "There were about ten of 'em. Seein' as they just had knives and crap, it was a win-win for us," he laughed._

"You are saying that the men who are being detained right now, are responsible for this massacre?" Ziva asked.

"But how do the medical examiners and Krieger fit in?" Tim asked, skeptically. "It seemed like they were trying to gain information on the security program he'd implemented."

"Are you kidding, man?" Claude smirked. "What the hell are the tau gonna do with a program? They don't even have guns, let alone computer access."

"Then what would be the point in killing them?" Tim asked.

"Smith was trying to set up some kinda truce. Those two tau members that died here, the ones that _you_ were told about, that was like the final straw, man. Smith knew something was gonna happen then. So when he heard the docs talking about what they'd told them, he offered to help figure out a way to make some kinda compromise. Smith and I are drivers. They needed him to take them out there. Needed to return the bodies to the tau, so takin' the docs and Krieger was easy to cover up as far as mileage goes."

"Smith told you this?" Ducky asked.

"No, Sir. I overheard a conversation being discussed after it'd happened. Someone told those men that they could save their asses by getting them that information. But they knew it would do them no good. They were hoping that by sending random guys over to be executed, it would stop the tau from killing their targets. They were wrong."

"Who was having this conversation?" Ziva asked.

"The only other two left of the team that took out those tau members, that weren't detained. Lanswerth and Ardin..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Gibbs sat in a chair beside Tony's bed; elbows resting on his knees as his hands joined together in front of his chin. He looked at Tony's still, sleeping form; calm, breathing...some of the color had come back to his face. Though he was still a bit pale, he looked a lot better than he did in the truck.

Oxygen tubes ran to his nasal cannula, and a large bandage wrapped around his abdomen, which was there, mostly, for pressure placement, as the actual wound was no larger than an inch and a half wide. They'd managed to clean off all the blood, with the exception of a few of the fingers on his right hand. Gibbs suddenly focused there, recalling Tony's grip over _his_ hand over his wound.

He glanced at the monitors, grateful that everything seemed to be normal for the moment, but on edge from the possibility that that could change at any moment. Leaning back in the chair, Gibbs took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. Nothing would be gained from stressing over uncertainty, now that things seemed to be going okay.

It was only a few moments later, that the door to the room opened, and he looked up at the man who entered. "Agent Gibbs," Lanswerth greeted. "I didn't realize you were in here. I'm sorry about what happened to your agent. The doctors say he's stable?"

Gibbs nodded. "You come by to see for yourself?"

"Guess so," he smirked. "Anything I can do for you?"

Gibbs looked at him for a moment, ready to reply, but his cell began to ring. He cocked his head as he fished it from his pocket. "Yeah, Gibbs," he said. McGee proceeded to bring him up to speed on what Claude had told them. And once he got to the names he'd been given, Gibbs looked back up at Lanswerth, who was watching DiNozzo from the foot of the bed.

Shutting his phone and shoving it back into his pocket, Gibbs pushed himself out of the chair and pulled his weapon out, aiming it in Lanswerth's face, "You sent us out there to die," he said through gritted teeth.

The Corporal held his hands out, "That's not what happened, Sir."

"Then what the hell are you doin' in here? What did you really come in here to do? Finish the job?"

"No! You've got it all wrong! We called you here to stop any more of this from happening!"

"I've got a witness sayin' you knew who went out that night and how. You knew they would be killed."

"I didn't know what happened till it was too late. And what I was told, wasn't adding up. That's why we called you here."

Gibbs considered his claim, "Explain..."

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**Shorter than usual, for my chapters, anyway. But I'm tired. So deal with it! Lmao ;) kidding. ::hugs:: Didn't wanna let you down by not putting anything up tonight. **

**Remember—the more reviews, the more motivated I am to write! So give me a shout and show yer love:) Give me something happeh to wake up with with my morning coffee...hehehe**


	5. Chapter 5

"So what you're tellin' me is that the tau never actually killed anyone before you found the three dead officers?" Gibbs asked.

"There had been a definite increase in the number of appearances," Lanswerth told him. "Training exercises became more and more difficult; our team was getting hesitant to even go out there."

"And that's how two more of the tau got shot," Gibbs surmised.

Lanswerth nodded, "We tried to save them. Those docs knew the language. Pretty sure they told them what happened out there. As far as what happened, or what their plan was once they got out there with Krieger, I'm honestly not sure."

"You knew the tau couldn't use the program," Gibbs said.

"I don't assume anything, Agent Gibbs. It's part of my job to protect our assets. For all we know, the tau could be working for a higher power. Gaining access to the program for someone who _does_ know how to use it, could be part of the plan. They might've joined forces once we took out such a large group of them."

"That's a lot of speculation."

"I just can't understand why else they would've brought Krieger out there, Sir. And I sure as hell can't figure out why they all ended up being killed..." Lanswerth was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He picked it up and turned away from Gibbs as he answered. Gibbs waited patiently for the short call to end, and the officer turned back to look at Gibbs after ending the call. "They haven't found Smith," he told him. "But they did find a knife..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Ducky came into Tony's room as the sun was rising. Gibbs had been waiting, coffee in hand, as McGee had worked with Ducky and Ziva to analyze the evidence, and talk to the officers involved in the massacre of the tau.

"McGee found the only prints on the knife belonged to its owner; Smith," he told Gibbs.

"Why would he try to kill Tony?" Gibbs inquired.

"Perhaps it was because he stumbled upon where they'd tortured Krieger," he told him. "The tree where you discovered Anthony after he'd been attacked, had more than just _his_ blood on it. They brought back samples from the bark higher up on the trunk; the DNA belongs to the programmer now in the morgue."

"Wasn't very smart to try and cover up what happened, then leave him right there where we'd be investigating."

"Perhaps he'd intended on taking him somewhere else," Ducky suggested. "I believe that Mr. Smith was a bit more involved in all of this than we suspect."

"How so?"

"You remember when I told you that the image of Tony's wound was strikingly similar to the fatal wounds to our dead officers? They're not simply similar...they were all done by the same person. Just a different weapon."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes in thought, "Smith was tryin' to make it look like the tau killed those officers," he surmised.

"_That _is what I believe Claude was trying to find in Smith's locker. Obviously, he did not bring it with him when you were led out to the scene."

"Did Ziva search the trunk?"

"They've got it in our bunker right now. After they took statements from the detained officers, they decided to look further into Smith's belongings. Claude couldn't find what he'd been searching for at first glance. But Timothy seems to believe there may be something more to that footlocker than meets the eye..." his thoughts wandered to Tony as he looked over at the sleeping agent. "Has he been sleeping the whole night?"

"Yeah," Gibbs looked over at Tony as well. "Hasn't so much as rolled over, either."

"No need to be concerned," Ducky said as he saw the anxiety in Gibbs' face. "He went through a pretty exhausting ordeal. His body needs rest," Ducky seemed to focus elsewhere, and Gibbs noticed his sudden wavering of thoughts.

"Do you know somethin' you haven't told me?" he asked.

Ducky's eyes met his, and he sighed. "Well, in this case, I was expecting that he'd become septic. With the laceration to his intestine, and the amount of time that passed before treatment..."

"But he's not," Gibbs had a questioning look on his face.

"No. Don't get me wrong, it's a very good thing. My concern is the fact that there was nothing in his system indicating that he'd eaten _anything_ for at least three days."

Gibbs pondered that for a moment. "I don't think any of us have eaten much since before we flew outta D.C."

"Yes, well, when it comes to Tony, eating has never seemed like something he would pass up on... unless something was troubling him."

"Tha's not very nice, Duck..." they turned to the sound of Tony's voice, immediately filing onto both sides of the bed as his eyes cracked open. "Where am I?" he asked in a weak voice.

"Sickbay," Ducky told him. "Do you recall why?"

Tony's eyes glanced around in thought for a few moments, then as he seemed to recall, he started to push himself up, wincing at the movement and grabbing his head, "Gah!" he yelped.

"Easy, Anthony," Ducky said as he led him back down, "You have a mild concussion."

"Someone knocked me out," Tony said.

"Probably Smith," Gibbs said, and Tony turned his head to look at him in question. "Got reason to believe he was involved in the murder of those three officers."

Tony's eyes shifted as he thought. "I found where Krieger may have been tortured..."

"Yeah," Gibbs started, "And he knew it. That's why he tried to stop you from tellin' us."

"Smith stabbed me?"

"Duck says he probably stabbed our victims, too."

"You're very lucky," Ducky added.

"Don't feel very lucky right now, Ducky," he said as his hand felt over the bandage on his belly.

"Well, considering..." Ducky didn't need to finish.

"Did they find Smith?" Tony asked Gibbs.

"Not yet," he informed him. "But we're workin' on it."

"I'll go fetch the doctor," Ducky said, "Let them know you're awake and see if we can't get you some pain killers," he turned toward the door.

After the door was shut behind him, Gibbs looked back at Tony and lowered himself back down into the chair beside him. "Wanna tell me why you haven't been eating?" he asked.

Tony let out a weak laugh, "I've been busy," he said. "Just haven't thought about it, I guess."

"You're busy a lot," he said. "Never stopped you from ordering a pizza or something."

Tony smirked, rolling his head to look up at the ceiling before closing his eyes. Gibbs watched him carefully, seeing his agent's jaw clench for a moment before swallowing.

"What's goin' on, Tony?" he asked. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

He took a deep breath, slowly releasing it before he opened his eyes again. "Don't wanna think about it right now," he said, then turned to look at Gibbs. "I'm fine, Boss...really."

Before he could respond, Ducky came back into the room with the doctor. "Jethro," Ducky motioned for him to come over as the doctor approached Tony's bedside. Gibbs stood and made his way to his older friend. "Ziva and Timothy are waiting for you in the bunker," he told him. "There's a situation..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Smith is alive," McGee told Gibbs as he walked into the room and over to the desk where his agents sat. "The tau are holding him prisoner. They called using his phone. Apparently, they're trying to clear their name."

"That's because they didn't kill anyone," Gibbs told him, then looked at Ziva, "You find anything in Smith's locker?"

Ziva held up an evidence bag containing her findings, "A knife, hidden under a false bottom in the locker. It looks to be the same type of knives the tau use."

"Smith used that to kill those three officers," Gibbs said.

"Boss?" McGee gave him a questioning look.

"The only crimes the tau are guilty of, are kidnapping, and petty pranks. Confirm Smith's prints on that knife...and DNA from the victims," he told them as he turned to head toward the door.

"Where are you going, Gibbs?" Ziva asked.

"To tell the Captain that if he wants to negotiate with the tau to get Smith back, that's his problem."

"Gibbs!" Ziva went after him, "This is part of our job."

He spun around to look at her, closing the space between them as he glared, "Smith tried to kill DiNozzo, and he murdered the officers we were sent to investigate. Not to mention the ten tau members he and his training team murdered in cold blood. There are nine other officers who'll be charged with murder and conspiracy...I couldn't give less of a damn if the tau _kill_ that sonofabitch, or they turn him back over to us. But for his sake," he said, backing away slightly as he raised his brows, "I hope we're gone before I have a chance to see him." With that, he turned and resumed his pace out of the room.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"How are you feeling?" Ducky asked when Tony woke again.

"Like crap," he replied, "But it's bearable right now, at least."

"Do tell us when if it gets worse. They can give you something stronger if you need it."

"Will do, Ducky. So what's goin' on? Everybody busy with the case?" he pressed the button to raise the head of the bed some. "They find Smith yet?"

"Jethro dropped by a few hours ago," he told him. "He said he'd spoken with the Captain about negotiating for Smith's release. Apparently, the tau are holding him prisoner until it's clear that they weren't the ones who killed the officers."

"Did they find any physical proof?"

"Timothy was able to lift Smith's prints from a tau knife he'd apparently confiscated from one of the deceased tau. The blade contained traces of DNA from all three of our victims. Last I heard, Lanswerth's training team were writing out confessions to the massacre of ten members of the tau, without provocation."

"Wow...all that, while I was sleeping," he smirked.

Ducky returned the smile, "Well, that's all _I_ know about, anyway." Both heads turned toward the door when they heard it open. Upon seeing Tim and Ziva, Ducky gave a small smile and stood from his chair. "I'll take my leave, young Anthony," he said, patting his shoulder. "Don't hesitate to send for me if you should need me to come back."

"Thanks, Duck," Tony said as he watched him pass the two agents that came into the room. "Hey, guys. Hear you've been busy."

"We're done, actually," McGee said as he approached the bed. "Vance called the Captain, said he wants us out of here now that everything's been solved. We'll be flying out tomorrow afternoon."

"How are you feeling?" Ziva asked at the other side of the bed.

"I've been worse," he told them. "Like...yesterday, for example. Wouldn't do that again, I'm pretty sure," he smirked.

"Well, you look a lot better than you did yesterday," Tim said; concern still evident on his face. "We were all pretty scared... I'm sorry..." his brow furrowed as he focused on he bandage covering Tony's wound. "I feel like this is all kinda my fault."

"What?" Tony looked at him in confusion. "Probie, how the hell-"

"They called our team out here, specifically, Tony," he said as he met his eyes again. "Can't just be a coincidence that I was offered a job in this very department, turned it down, and got us all here for some case they coulda figured out on their own."

"You cannot be serious, McGee," Ziva looked at him. "If they had some kind of vendetta to settle with you, then they would have made sure that it was _you_ out there with Smith."

"Maybe it was supposed to be..." he retorted.

"Hey!" Tony protested, reaching out to grab McGee's wrist and draw his attention back to him. "I know we're not supposed to believe in coincidences, Tim, but that's what this was," he said with narrowed eyes. "If you'd taken that job, we would've been here investigating _your_ death. I'm perfectly content with getting this little scar instead, honestly."

"Little scar?" Tim scoffed, "You lost half the blood in your body! If you don't believe me, I'm pretty sure we can wheel you down to the vehicle bay and show you..." his voice cracked and he pulled away from Tony's grip, slightly embarrassed.

"It's not your fault," Tony said, calmly. "If this hadn't happened, we may never have found out the truth behind all of this crap. And if I'd been paying better attention, I probably would've been able to avoid the whole near-death experience."

"This isn't _your_ fault either, Tony," Tim said.

"Okay, listen," Ziva butted in, "I am not going to stand here and listen to the two of you arguing over what is whose fault, or who is to blame for why. The people who are really at fault, are going to be punished. _We_ will all be leaving here alive. _That_ is what is important, yes?"

Tony looked at her, squinting for a moment before glancing back over at McGee. "Have either of you slept since we got here?" he asked.

"Not really," Tim replied.

"And you have not eaten," Ziva said to McGee.

"I have a sensitive stomach," he defended. "I don't do well with...pretty much anything out of the country. You can ask Abby if you don't believe me."

"Aw don't worry, Probie," Tony patted his arm, "We know," he smirked. "But seriously, you both should go get some sleep. I'm probably gonna go ahead and pass out again anyway. These pain meds make me drowsy."

"Boss doesn't want us to leave you by yourself," McGee told him. "He's still worried about who to trust around here."

"Oh, I see," he flashed a grin, "You came here to babysit."

"We came here to see if you were okay," Ziva corrected.

"Yeah, we haven't really had a free moment to come by till now," Tim told him. "But that's okay, 'cause now we can get outta this place tomorrow."

"For this, I am very grateful," Tony said. "But please...I'll be fine. You rounded up the bad guys, and no one is out to get me. You need to go get some sleep."

"I figured he'd give you a hard time," they turned toward Gibbs' voice as he came through the door. "Go on and get some sleep," he told them. "I'll stay." Giving in without an argument, the two of them gave Tony a small smile, then left the room, shutting the door behind them.

"Now I _know_ you haven't slept, Boss," Tony said as he watched him take a seat beside the bed. "There's really no reason you should have to watch over me. Ya really think someone's got a hit out on me?"

Gibbs smirked, "Wouldn't be the first time," he cocked his head. "Can't be too careful."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he smirked.

"Hey, I didn't say you couldn't defend yourself, if the moment arises. But I'm really lookin' forward to kickin' someone's ass right now if they give me a reason."

"No wonder Vance is getting us outta here so fast," he replied, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.

"Go to sleep, DiNozzo."

"Not unless you do, too," he said, without any obvious intentions of following through, as his eyes drifted closed. Gibbs smirked once more in the direction of the agent, before scooting down a bit in the chair. Of course, Gibbs wouldn't need much convincing to rest on his own. He was exhausted as well. Within a matter of minutes, he'd dozed off in the chair; his head resting back...

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep before being pulled from it again. But there was a strange sound that had dragged him from the restful slumber, and it took him a moment to recall where, exactly, he was. But as he cracked his eyes open, he immediately realized what he was hearing.

Tony was curled up on his side facing him; his arms folded in front of him and his eyes squeezed shut. His forehead was sheen with sweat. Gibbs leaned forward, reaching a hand to settle on Tony's arm, "You in pain?" he asked, already knowing the answer, but more interested in knowing if he was awake. He saw Tony nod without opening his eyes to acknowledge who had asked him. "I'll get the doc," he stood and hurried out of the room.

Tony let out a struggled breath he'd been holding back in efforts not to worry the man. He couldn't remember ever feeling such intense pain. It had started out rather bearable, but pushed him into a nightmare that involved his being back in the truck, speeding toward the base. By the time it had pulled him from his restless slumber, he was hurting too bad to even call for help...

When Gibbs came back into the room, followed by a nurse with another IV bag, he went back to the chair, focusing back on his agent. Tony wasn't aware he'd returned yet; his pain was more evident in his face as tears had begun to trail down over the bridge of his nose and onto the mattress.

Gibbs reached out, again, gently taking one of Tony's balled up hands, and was surprised when his agent responded by grasping onto it tightly. It nearly broke his heart. He swallowed and glanced at the nurse as she hooked the IV to the cannula on his arm. "This should help," she said quietly. Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment and looked back to Tony's face, reaching his other hand up to his friend's head.

His attempt to comfort him by stroking the top of his head seemed to help Tony to relax a bit. And as the medicine began to take effect, Tony's face began to slack, and his grip on his boss's hand loosened. Gibbs glanced at the nurse again, who nodded and gave him a small smile before turning to leave. He looked down to Tony again, seeing his eyes crack open a bit.

"S'ry, Boss..." he slurred.

"Shoulda told me you were hurtin'. They could've given you somethin' before it got that bad," he pulled his hand from his head, but left his other one where it still sat in Tony's hand.

"Couldn't talk by the time I...woke up," he explained. "Whatever they just gave me...I wanna take it home. 's nice."

Gibbs smirked, "I'll make sure we have it for the trip home."

Tony took a deep breath, relieved that the pain had stopped, but too afraid to change position on the bed for fear it might start over again. He let his eyes drift closed, and Gibbs thought for a moment that he might be going back to sleep. But then they opened again, glancing at Gibbs for a moment before focusing elsewhere.

"Got a phone call last week," he told his boss. "My dad's lawyer..." Gibbs narrowed his eyes as he listened. "Called to tell me...h- he was in an accident. He was drunk...crashed into another car, sending both vehicles over a forty-foot cliff..." his eyes darted around in front of him, and Gibbs felt his hand grip onto his a bit tighter. "My father's dead, Boss," he said, meeting his eyes for a moment. "And he killed a car full of kids...three college kids...all of them are dead..."

"I'm sorry, Tony," he said in barely a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me? I would've given you some time off..." Tony met his gaze again.

"I didn't need time off," he said flatly.

"What about the funeral?"

"There wasn't one," he told him. "He didn't want one. Wanted to be cremated and put in a plot he'd already paid for. No services. But even if there had been one...I wouldn't have gone." He let out a small laugh, "Leave it to him to put the perfect end to his lifelong conquest of never-ending bullshit. That sonofabitch..." the words came out with a sob and his eyes squeezed shut against his inability to stop the sudden onslaught of tears. And suddenly he was trying to turn away, somehow managing to push himself up until he was sitting straight up in the bed. "DiNozzo's don't..."

"Hey," Gibbs stood from the chair took Tony's shoulders as he sat down on the edge of the bed, intending on leading him back down to lay. But Tony put a hand out to stop him, unsuccessfully, and ended up falling into Gibbs' chest and sobbing ashamedly. Gibbs decidedly wrapped his arm supportively around his back; his other hand holding onto Tony's head.

"It's not fair, Boss," he cried. "He doesn't deserve this much...doesn't deserve for me to feel this much pain for him leaving..."

Gibbs pressed his cheek against the top of his agent's head, "He was your father," he said simply. And he held him through the tears...

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**so...before you spam me about Tony not being so emotional, realize he's on a heavy morphine drip now. ;) but do feel free to send me comments...good or bad! Ty!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Gotta give a shout-out to all my recent reviewers, seeing as I haven't done so in a while. I love you all! NikaDex, especially! You are awesome. Arisprite, ncischick09, sparkiebunny, tonysmel, HuluView, diana teo, jgomez921, NickTonyK, Rena-spatz, carismum, LittleHogwartsGirl, Cutezipie, Helix82, Azgirl, gsr4ever, kawaii popcorn desu(someday youll hafta tell me what your name means lol), BnBfanatic, anci2506, TinTin11, Probieluvr, Zan65, zats, NCIS-TIVA-FAN, shirik, Apion, and Pam11. So many new names! Thanks so much for reading and taking time to let me know you enjoy this story! Means so much to me to wake up to kind words :)**

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Tony was wheeled to the private plane, strapped into one of the seats between Ziva and Ducky, across from Gibbs and Tim. The sitting position was uncomfortable for him, but mandatory for taking off. Ducky held the IV pole securely and the plane began to move. Tony eyed the comfortable look of the lounge couch further up in the cabin.

"You can go there once we're in the air," Gibbs told him, knowingly. Tony, still feeling slightly sheepish from his display much earlier that morning, gave him a curt nod, and resumed to look out the window.

"I'd like you to try and eat something, first, if you wouldn't mind," Ducky told the agent. "I've asked the staff to prepare something light for you."

"Sure, Ducky," Tony replied quietly. As the plane sped quickly up the strip, Tony closed his eyes and held onto the armrests. Normally, the take-off of an aircraft wouldn't bother him; he'd been in an array of flights over his lifetime, and certainly more rapid take-offs in the past. But his stomach churned on this one.

Soon, though, he felt the evening out of the craft, letting him know they were in the air and stabilized. He opened his eyes and looked out the small window before letting out a breath. "Can I eat on the couch?" he asked Ducky.

"Certainly," he replied, removing his seat belt. "Jethro, can you give me a hand assisting Anthony?" he asked as he stood. Gibbs removed his belt as Tony did, and stood to help the agent to his feet.

"Hey, I'm on a morphine drip," Tony argued weakly. "I can walk to the couch..."

"Not a question of whether you can get there," Gibbs said as he held his arm. "More along the lines of, can you get there without fallin' on your ass and pullin' out your IV line."

"Precisely," Ducky agreed. "You don't want me to have to re-stick you. I know how you hate needles." Tony responded with a grunt as he allowed them to help him to the couch. As he lowered to sit, the flight attendant arrived with their meal trays. She brought Tony his, before placing the rest at the small foldout table that sat between the rest of the agents' seats.

"I gotta eat all of this?" Tony asked as he looked at the tray of unappetizing foods.

"There's barely anything there, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he looked at the toast, cut-up fruit portion, and carrot sticks. Tony sighed and began to slowly devour the toast. Satisfied that Tony had given in without much of a fight, Gibbs returned to his seat and examined his own tray.

"I'll get you some water," Ducky told Tony, "And some pillows for when you're through."

Tony didn't realize how hungry he was until he'd consumed the toast. Soon, his tray was cleared and he was ready to crash before Ducky had even returned with the items he'd gone to get. He mumbled something before taking a long drink of water, and laid himself down on the pillows Ducky had laid on one end of the couch. Satisfied that the agent wouldn't roll off onto the floor, Ducky went to sit with the rest of them, taking a small glance at his own tray before glancing at his friends.

"He gonna be okay to fly this long?" Gibbs asked.

"The medical staff gave us everything we'll need for the next twenty-four hours. There's more than enough. He should be just fine. The fact that he's eaten his entire meal, is comforting."

"Sleep will do him good, yes?" Ziva asked between bites of her salad.

"It will help his body to heal," Ducky confirmed. "Even if it _is_ a sleep induced by pain killers."

"The second IV bag," Ziva inquired, "Is he also receiving fluids?"

"That is actually antibiotics to reduce the possibility of infection from his wound. They did send some fluids with us, in the case that he couldn't eat. But it seems we won't be needing them."

"Will he need to stay at Bethesda when we get back?" McGee inquired.

"It would probably be a good idea," Ducky said, glancing in Tony's direction for an inevitable retort, but heard nothing. "He must be fast asleep," he smirked.

Gibbs gave a hint of a smile before washing his meal down with half of his water. Then he recalled the breakdown Tony had had earlier that morning and he glanced around to each of his friends at the table. "Did any of you know 'bout his father?" he asked, quietly.

McGee furrowed a brow in question, "What do you mean?"

Gibbs saw the same questioning look on each of their faces. "You have your laptop?" he asked McGee. Tim quickly reached for it from beside his seat.

"I've got a broadband stick," he said as he booted it up, pushing his empty tray out of the way so he could set the computer there. "I shouldn't have too much of a problem getting a signal."

"Do a search on his name; anything that comes up in the past week or so," he told him, then looked at Ducky, who was looking at him with concern. Gibbs stood and motioned for him to follow as he walked toward the front of the plane out of earshot of the others.

"What's going on, Jethro?" he asked.

"Tony told me this morning, that he got a call last week. His father was killed in an accident."

"Oh my... that is awful," his sympathy was written clearly on his face. "Why didn't he tell us sooner?"

"Don't think he knew how to handle the news, himself. I think that's why he wasn't eating."

"I see," he sighed. "Well, if he confided in you about it, then perhaps the healing process has begun."

"Maybe. I know he's not gonna wanna stay in the hospital when we get back, Duck. So if it's possible, I'd like to keep him at my place for a while. Keep an eye on him, myself."

"If he's okay with that, and he handles this trip well, I don't see why that couldn't be an option," he said.

Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment. "Somethin' else you should know about the accident," he told him. "It was his own fault. He'd been drinkin' and he hit another car; killed some college-aged kids. I think that's why he's had such a hard time with all of it."

Ducky gave a sullen nod of understanding. After a moment, the two of them made their way back into the cabin, noticing that Ziva had taken Gibbs' seat to read the article that Tim had discovered. The two older men took the other seats after glancing to see Tony still asleep.

"Wow," McGee said quietly, "I had no idea...he didn't say anything to me..." he looked up at Gibbs.

"Just told me this morning," Gibbs said. "Thought it'd be easier if he didn't have to keep bringing it up, which is why I had you look for it. He's havin' a hard time with it, so I think it'd be best if everyone had a heads-up if you notice any change in behavior you might be concerned about."

The group got strangely quiet, as if a vigil for the agent's loss. Then Ziva stood from her seat, "If it is alright with all of you, I believe I will try to get some sleep." Gibbs gave her a small nod and she turned to walk to the other side of the cabin, finding a more comfortable chair near a window.

"Guess I'll get started on our report," Tim said, a bit uneasy as he began his work on the computer.

"I think I'll follow Ziva's lead," Ducky said as he stood and maneuvered around Gibbs' chair. "I believe we've all greatly disrupted our sleep schedule."

Gibbs watched as Ducky found another seat, then looked briefly at McGee before his eyes settled on the sleeping agent on the couch. Feeling suddenly a bit tired, himself, he slid over into the seat beside his, and put his legs up, leaning his head against the wall. He let his eyes drift closed, taking some unexpected comfort in the sound of Tim's typing on the computer...

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

McGee jolted awake, suddenly; a bit confused as to when he'd fallen asleep. His laptop was still open and his hands were still resting in front of the keyboard. It was dark out, as he surmised from glancing at the window. Gibbs was sleeping across from him, and as Tim turned his head, he noticed that they were _all_ sleeping soundly.

He turned back to the screen, ready to resume typing up the report, but his eyes were having trouble focusing. When rubbing them didn't help, he decided to get up and venture to the lavatory to splash some cool water on his face. Once satisfied, he headed out of the bathroom toward his seat, but stopped when he glanced at Tony.

He realized the agent was shivering and he crouched down beside the couch to see if he was awake Laying a hand on his shoulder, he was alarmed at how hot he felt. He stood, abruptly, and turned to wake Doctor Mallard, "Ducky..." he said in a hushed voice, so not to wake everyone else.

"Y- yes, Timothy? What is it?" he said as he opened his eyes and looked up at him.

"It's Tony...I think there might be something wrong."

Ducky pushed up out of his seat immediately, and followed Tim back over to Tony. Turning the overhead light on above him, he looked the agent over.

"I think he's running a fever," McGee told him.

"Yes, I see," Ducky replied with a hand on Tony's forehead. "Well this is unexpected. There shouldn't be an infection... See if you can wake him while I go fetch my bag. I need him to take some Acetaminophin and bring the fever down."

Tim crouched down and began to gently shake Tony's shoulder, "Tony," he called in hushed voice, loud enough to wake the agent.

Gibbs opened his eyes in the quiet commotion, immediately realizing that something was wrong as he watched Ducky make his way toward Tony with his bag. He pushed himself up from his position and made his way toward them, "What's going on?" he asked.

"Anthony is running a fever," Ducky told him.

"I can't get him to wake up," McGee said.

"Stop whisperin', and maybe he will," Gibbs said. "Here, lemme try," he moved to where Tim had been. "DiNozzo," he said.

"Yeah, Boss..." Tony immediately cracked open his eyes and began to push himself up.

"You're running a bit of a fever," Ducky told him. "Do you think you can take some pills?"

Tony shook his head, "No..." he swallowed. "Think I'm...gonna be sick..." Tim thought fast, grabbing an airsickness bag and handing to Tony before he lurched forward to empty the contents of his stomach into the bag.

Ducky, who was standing over him, noticed something then. "Oh dear," he said, and Gibbs looked up at him, standing to view what Ducky was looking at. On the back of Tony's neck was the beginnings of a rather prominent rash.

"What's that mean, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"I can't be certain without being in a facility in which I can run the proper diagnostic tests, but given where we've been, and the amount of time Tony spent out in the training area, it could be possible that he's contracted an illness call Dengue Fever. It's transmitted by infected mosquitoes in the very area we happened to be..."

"How do you treat it?"

"There is no treatment, I'm afraid. All we can do is treat the symptoms, and it will eventually pass through his system."

"Well...w- what can we do for him?" McGee asked, worry washing his face.

"For now, he needs some anti-nausea medication so he can take something for the fever. Fortunately, we were given some phenergin which can be given through his IV," he said as he fished it out of the box of medical supplies. "And he'll need plenty of water, if you can fetch some, Timothy."

"Yeah, sure," he scrambled toward the front cabin.

Gibbs sank down onto the couch beside Tony, "You still with us?" he asked him, seeing the agent slumped back in his seat.

"Tired," he replied, "And cold."

"On the contrary," Ducky said as he injected the meds into the IV, "You're burning up. You feel cold because you're much warmer than the atmosphere in this room. I'm going to start you back on fluids, as fever can cause dehydration. Jethro, if you could fetch him a blanket...shivering will only increase his body temperature."

"Can I please go back to sleep, now?" Tony asked; eyes barely staying open as Gibbs pulled a blanket over the front of him.

"Gotta try and take your meds, first," Gibbs told him.

"Don't wanna..." he replied, laying his head on Gibbs' shoulder in attempt to go back to sleep.

"Wasn't a request," Gibbs smirked, despite the concern for his agent's well-being.

"M'kay, Boss...where's the meds?" he reached out blindly, and Ducky put the pills in his hand. Tony popped them into his mouth and swallowed them, reaching for the bottle of water Ducky was holding out to him, to help them down. "Now can I please...go to sleep?"

"Not on me," Gibbs told him as he moved to stand from the couch and help him to lay back down. "Don't want you throwin' up on me."

"'m not gonna throw up anymore. Wasn't fun..."

"Yes, well," Ducky began, "Let's keep some more of those bags handy, just in case."

Gibbs realized that McGee had brought a few bottles of water to the small table beside the bed and took a seat beside Ziva, who was awake and looking a bit concerned for what she'd witnessed. But he could tell she was attempting to hide those feelings. Unsurprising as it may have been, he went over to her and sat in a seat beside her.

"Is he going to be alright, Gibbs?" she asked.

"Duck will make sure of it," he tried to reassure her, and possibly himself as well. "We're close to halfway home. When we get there, we'll get him to the hospital and make sure he's okay."

"It is still more than ten hours until we land," she said.

"Yeah, but Ducky has everything he needs to help him. Nothin' much else we can do till we get there. So you might as well try and get some more sleep."

Ziva's focus shifted back and forth on the floor in thought. "I need to use the bathroom," she said as she stood and made her way out of the room. Gibbs looked at McGee, who was looking in the general direction of where Tony and Ducky still were. He looked worn and tired, and Gibbs realized then, that Tim and Ziva had done a lot over the past couple of days. Yes, it was their job. But they'd worked non-stop to solve the case, with half the man-power. And they'd done it all through the uncertainty of one of their teammate's fate.

Gibbs sometimes forgot that he wasn't the only one who was haunted by the suffering of any of the members of their team. They had taken up most of the slack, and he was more than grateful for each of them.

"You okay, Boss?" he was pulled from his thoughts by McGee's question. Tim was looking at him with a furrowed brow.

"Yeah," he replied as he stood, and he patted McGee's shoulder before heading back to the table. "Get some sleep, McGee."

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**too tired to continue, but wanted to get something out tonight. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Shout out to my bff...whose name shall remain anonymous for protection of the innocent ;) Your opinion counts the most, even if it's just over aim. Love u!**

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Tony woke up, being fairly aware for the first time since originally falling asleep after his meal. He noticed the dimness in the cabin as he looked in front of him, seeing Ziva and Tim. Ziva was curled up in her chair, sleeping a bit restlessly. Tim, however, seemed unable to keep his eyes closed. He was staring up at the ceiling, as if pondering or daydreaming.

Tony slowly pushed himself up to sit, glancing over in the direction of where Ducky had dozed off, then over to where Gibbs was leaning back against the wall; McGee's laptop in front of him as he seemed to be reading something on the screen. But apparently he'd seen Tony's movement from the corner of his eye and looked over at him.

"You okay?" he asked.

Tony nodded, "Gotta use the head," he told him. Gibbs shut the laptop and set it on the table before getting up from his seat. He glanced at McGee, who stood when he realized Tony would need help getting to the lavatory. Tony would've protested, but he couldn't even imagine being able to get up on his own at that moment. It'd been frighteningly difficult to push himself up to sit as it was. "Why do I feel so damn weak?" he inquired, possibly unaware that he'd said it out loud.

"'Cause you're sick," Gibbs replied as he and McGee helped him to stand, each taking a side.

"I'm sick?" he paused in his steps.

"Ducky says you might've been infected with Dengue Fever," McGee told him.

"What the hell...that's something you get from mosquito bites, right? Shit...seriously? I got bit maybe twice before I put on the repellant."

"You've gotta be one of the unluckiest people I know," Tim commented as they resumed the journey toward the bathroom.

"Lucky enough," Gibbs added. "He's alive."

"That's right, McGoo," Tony said with a smirk. "No way a mosquito's gonna take me down." They reached the lavatory door, and Gibbs opened it for him. "Thanks, guys. Think I've got it from here."

As the door closed, Gibbs leaned up against the wall beside it. McGee did the same on the opposite wall and glanced at Gibbs, "He doesn't feel like he's got a fever anymore," he commented. Gibbs nodded in agreement. "Maybe it was just a coincidence...he might not have Dengue Fever."

"Maybe," Gibbs replied quietly. They heard the flush of the toilet and the faucet turn on, and they pushed up from the wall in preparation to help lead Tony back to the couch. As the door opened, Tony glanced between both agents.

"You guys too tired to play cards?"

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Two hours after they'd begun, Ziva and Ducky had joined them in their card game. Tony's upbeat behavior was comforting to them all, even if somewhat annoying. An extensive list of movie references that took place on planes, Ziva did the most eye-rolling as she'd heard most of them while they were on their way to Paris.

The flight attendant came into the cabin, asking if any of them were ready to eat. After Ducky specified what to bring Tony, the attendant disappeared from the cabin to fetch the trays. Gibbs began to collect the cards

"Are you feeling okay, Tony?" Ziva asked as she noticed his shifting in the seat.

"Yeah, I'm good," he told her. "Vaguely recalling that I threw up my last meal. So maybe I should stay up for a while after I eat."

"Staying upright for a bit would probably help," Ducky said. "When you've gotten something into your stomach, you should take some ibuprofen as well. Best to be on the safe side where fever is a concern. You aren't feeling queasy, are you?"

"No, I think I'm good."

*~.~*

After they'd finished with their meal and the attendant cleared away the trays, Tony washed down the ibuprofen with a full bottle of water.

"Thirsty much?" McGee commented.

"Very," he said as he set the empty bottle down on the table top. "And with great thirst, comes necessity to empty one's bladder. This would be much easier if we had a segway on-board."

"Well, we do not," Ziva said as she stood to assist him. "So you will have to settle for our help."

"When I stop being so completely useless, I'll have to make it up to you all with a good old-fashioned, homemade Italian meal," Tony said as Ziva and McGee helped him toward the lavatory.

"I'll try not to hold my breath," Tim joked.

"Hey!" Tony defended, and Ziva laughed through her nose.

"I'm kidding," McGee laughed.

"Not nice to ridicule the injured, McMeany," Tony squinted.

"Says the guy who just stood there while I was being jolted by a stun-gun, telling me to breathe through it," he retorted.

"That wasn't life-threatening, McToasty. And...it was slightly amusing," he smirked.

"That's...really nice, Tony," Tim sarcastically responded.

"We'll continue this conversation when my bladder isn't screaming at me," Tony said as he disappeared into the lavatory.

"Do not worry, McGee," Ziva told him. "Your joke was much more funny."

*~.~*

Once Tony was finished relieving himself, he zipped up his pants and leaned over to flush. At the sound the toilet made, he was suddenly hit with an overwhelming wave of nausea. "Ah, shit..." he swore as he gripped the IV pole and supported himself with a hand upon the wall in front of him...

*~.~*

They expected him to come out after they heard the toilet flush, but when they heard him begin to retch, they shared a quick glance. As Ziva went to open the door, McGee turned toward the cabin.

"Ducky, he's getting sick again," he informed the doctor, and watched as he and Gibbs sprang from their seats.

Ziva was in the small space of the lavatory; her hand on Tony's back, comfortingly, as he struggled to bring up the barely digested meal. Inwardly, he was grateful it had been mostly liquid, or this would probably be a lot more painful.

Eventually, he was down to dry-heaving, still unable to fend away the offending nausea. And the effort became unbearable. "Sonofabitch..." he breathed. And he felt Ziva slip away from him as he heard Ducky's voice.

"Some more anti-nausea meds should help," he said as he pushed them into his IV. "I do wish you would've mentioned this sooner."

"Didn't feel it sooner, Duck," he responded; eyes closed as he swallowed in effort to stop the heaving.

"Try and take some deep breaths," the doctor told him. "The meds should start working fairly quickly." Tony concentrated on following that order, breathing in and out through his nose until the feeling began to subside. When he opened his eyes, Ducky was handing him a small glass of water to rinse out his mouth. He accepted and swished it around before spitting it into the toilet and hitting the flush button once more.

Gibbs stood wearily outside the door, witnessing the agent's struggle, and jumping to his aid when he noticed him about to collapse in front of him. Grabbing him under the arms, he held him up, "Come on, Tony. Let's get you to the couch," he told him. Adjusting him so that Tony's arm was over Gibbs' shoulders, and Ducky was helping to lead the IV pole out of the confined area, they started out toward the couch.

As he was lowered to sit, Tony's eyes focused on Ducky, "Is this from the damned mosquito bite?" he asked weakly.

"Well, I can't be certain of what it is, exactly, until we get you home," Ducky told him. "But if it is the Dengue Fever, then this is a symptom, yes."

"How much longer till we land?" Tony inquired.

Gibbs looked at his watch, "About five hours," he answered and watched Ducky as he placed a hand on the agent's forehead. "Runnin' a fever again?" he asked.

"Doesn't seem very high," he replied. "I do wish you were able to keep something down."

"You and me both, Ducky," Tony gave a small smirk. "Got anything in your magic bag that'll knock me out for...oh, say five hours or so?"

"Something tells me you won't have a problem sleeping, young Anthony," the doctor replied with a smirk. "I'll get a fresh bag of fluids for your IV. We need to keep you well-hydrated."

His departure allowed Tony to see the Tim and Ziva were standing there near him, looking as concerned as when they'd been in his sickbay room the previous day. Tony flashed them a grin, "Don't be so worried, guys," he told them. "It's not like Gibbs gave me permission to die," his head turned to look beside him where Gibbs sat, "Isn't that right, Boss?" Gibbs just smirked and shook his head.

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McGee had gone back to typing up the report, in efforts to occupy his brain, instead of dwelling in the fact that Tony was ill. Ducky sat across from him, drinking a steaming cup of tea as he collected his thoughts. Gibbs had taken the more comfortable chair across the cabin from where Tony slept on the couch, and Ziva sat on the floor; her back against the part where Tony's feet lay close behind her head.

He'd been asleep for over an hour, and the others had been too restless to even attempt getting anymore shuteye. Gibbs had been absentmindedly watching over both agents across from him, taking note that Ziva, while seemingly fidgeting with a program on her cell phone, was glancing over at Tony in intervals; checking to confirm he was alright.

The lead agent's focus shifted over to Ducky and McGee, until he saw Ziva move. She had shifted to kneel in front of Tony, feeling his forehead, and turned to look at Gibbs with a look of concern. "His fever is back," she said, causing Ducky and McGee to look over at her as she moved her fingers to his neck. "And his heart rate is elevated."

Gibbs was beside her in a moment, crouching down to confirm her findings. Ducky was soon to follow with his medical bag in hand. "He's burnin' up, Duck," Gibbs told him as he moved out of the doctor's way.

"I believe I spotted an ear thermometer near the first aid kit in the flight assistant's lounge. I'd rather spare waking Tony to take his temperature, if you wouldn't mind fetching it for me, Jethro."

"I'm up," Tony said, though his eyes remained closed. Gibbs halted in his steps and turned.

"Are you in any pain?" Ducky asked as he pulled a thermometer from his bag.

"I don't think so," he replied, weakly.

"Open up," Ducky said, "So I can take your temperature." Tony cracked open his eyes slightly before allowed Ducky to put the thermometer into his mouth.

"We land yet?" the question was muffled by the object under his tongue.

"Please at least _attempt_ to not speak until the thermometer can do its job," Ducky scolded. "And no, we have no yet landed." The device beeped, indicating it was finished.

"Can I talk _now_?" Tony asked as Ducky took it from him.

Ducky took a breath as he read the read-out, "It would be a good idea to try and stay awake," he told him. "Ziva, if you could fetch a few cold-compresses from the flight-attendant..." Gibbs narrowed his eyes as Ziva rushed quickly past them. The doctor turned to face Gibbs to tell him the news, "A hundred and four... We'll need to cool him down. Not to mention, _pray_..."

Gibbs furrowed his brow and maneuvered around Ducky to crouch down, once again, beside his senior agent, "Can't you give him some more acetaminophen?" he asked, looking at the half-awake agent in front of him.

"If there wasn't a concern about his ability to keep it down," Ducky answered. "I suspect he'll become dehydrated if it should continue to happen."

Ziva came back into the room carrying the three cold-compresses Ducky had requested. He, in turn, handed them to Gibbs. "One under each armpit," he instructed, "And one at the back of his neck." Gibbs did as he was told, receiving a yelp from Tony at the sudden contact of cold on his skin.

"Doctor's orders, DiNozzo," Gibbs reassured him. "Don't want you to lose anymore of those braincells."

The comment was rewarded with a sarcastic laugh from Tony, "Guess that's what I get for pickin' on Probie's stun-gun experience," he said, glancing at the obviously worried agent who stood at the far end of the couch. For a moment, his eyes began to blur, and he rubbed them with his fingers. "I'm kinda thirsty," he said.

"I'll get you some ice to chew on," Ducky told him, "It just may assist in lowering your fever as well." McGee followed him.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"Perhaps you can get on the phone and alert Bethesda that we'll need an ambulance once we land," he told him. "They've already received his record of the stab wound, but they'll need to know what he may have contracted, and that he's running a high fever." McGee nodded and headed to the phone on the wall in the lounge.

As Ducky made his way back toward Tony, he saw that Ziva had fetched a cool cloth and was wiping it over the agent's forehead. Tony was trying to focus on his boss's face. "Sorry 'bout this, Boss," he said in barely a whisper. "I know...sign of weakness," he smirked when Gibbs had opened his mouth to retort. "But I'm feelin' pretty damn weak right now. So I guess I'm allowed."

Gibbs cocked his head, "Still don't get to apologize when it's not your fault."

"My fault I didn't think to put on repellant before we went out there," he reminded him.

"Unfortunate natural consequence," he smirked, "But I'm sure you'll never forget again."

"Yeah, guess not... either way you look at it," he swallowed. Gibbs narrowed his eyes at the grim suggestion.

Ducky decided to interrupt that thought, "Here you go," he said, "You'll need to try and sit up a bit. Or perhaps a few more pillows..." Gibbs stood, meaning to go and get the requested items, but Ziva had already begun to head that way. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, feeling restless in needing to somehow help.

Ziva returned quickly with the pillows, and Gibbs thought to sit on the edge of the couch beside Tony to lift him a bit so she could place them under his head. Then he gently laid him back down, repositioning the cold-compresses back to where they needed to be.

"Bethesda's on stand-by for when we land," McGee's voice rang softly behind them. And suddenly Gibbs felt Tony's hand clutch the front of his shirt, and he met the agent's eyes.

"I...I don't wanna go to the hospital," he said with a look of fear in his eyes. Gibbs narrowed his eyes at him.

"Then stop bein' sick, DiNozzo," he said in all seriousness.

"On it, Boss," he gave a small smirk and released his grip.

"Good," Gibbs replied and took the cup of ice from Ducky; putting it in Tony's hand before standing from the couch.

"I-I'm sorry, Boss," McGee said in a hushed voice. "I shouldn't have said that..."

"You're fine, McGee," he assured him, and watched as the agent's focus dropped to the floor, then fixed to the couch where Tony lay. He was obviously worried and feeling just as useless as the rest of them at this point. "He's gonna be okay," Gibbs told him.

McGee looked back at Gibbs, nodding after a moment, then turning to go back to his seat in front of his computer. Ducky stood and turned to Gibbs, "I'll take his temperature again in a bit. Hopefully, the cold-compresses will help bring the fever down some. Ziva informed me that there are a few more in the freezer, so when the time comes to change them out, we'll need to put these back in so we have them when the others run warm."

"Okay," Gibbs replied, his focus going back to Tony. Ziva was sitting where Gibbs had just moments ago, holding onto the cup for him.

Ducky was concerned by the look of uncertainty on his friend's face. "As you told Timothy, he will be okay, Jethro. Just a few more hours..."

Gibbs nodded as he turned away and rubbed a hand down his face. He made his way to the seat he'd been sitting in earlier, and resumed his distant watch over his senior agent. And he hoped that he and Ducky were right...

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**tbc...**


	8. Chapter 8

_**There's some German later in this chapter, translations courtesy of the awesome NikaDex! Thanks:) The English translation sentences are under each phrase, in italics and inside astericks.**_

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McGee closed down his laptop after he finished the report, and he turned to lean back against the wall His focus turned to Tony as Ducky was changing out the cold-compresses and taking his temperature. Ziva crossed the room to sit across from Tim at the table and he looked at her.

"May I use your computer for a moment?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied as he slid it over to her with a clear look of curiosity on his face.

"Thank you." Ziva only gave him a small smile, not revealing her purpose whatsoever. No matter, though. McGee would be able to figure out whatever she'd decided to look up, when he got it back. So he looked back over at Tony, realizing that Ducky had left his side and taken a seat beside Gibbs.

"His fever hasn't gone down much," the doctor told the team leader. "But as long as it's not getting worse, I think we'll be okay until we can get him to the hospital."

"Not too much longer, now," Gibbs replied. "Hour and a half, or so."

"Yes. But his body is heating up those compresses so quickly, there's not enough time to freeze them again before needing to swap out. We'll have to start making them from ice, this go-around."

"I can help out with that," McGee offered.

"Very good," Ducky nodded to him. "Let's get them prepared, then, shall we?" he stood and the two of the disappeared into the assistants lounge.

Gibbs observed Ziva at the computer for a moment before looking back over to Tony. The ailing agent seemed to be staring somewhere near the edge of the couch where his feet lay. His face was emotionless; unreadable...

*~.~*

Tony was a bit alarmed when the unreal figure appeared, sitting on the couch at his feet. At first, he thought one of his teammates had come and sat down while his eyes were closed. But to his surprise, once it came into focus, even his fevered mind told him that it wasn't real. There, in front of him, sat his father...

For a split moment, he considered the possibility that he was visiting him from beyond the grave. But when his father began to speak, Tony couldn't contain his laughter. The hilarity came in the complete fallacy of the man's words...

Gibbs and Ziva became increasingly concerned by the seemingly deluded laughter coming from their teammate. Ziva moved to stand, but Gibbs held his hand up for her to wait, and he made his way, cautiously, to Tony's side and crouched down. "What's so funny?" he asked, calmly.

Without looking away from the delusion, Tony replied, "I'm losin' those brain cells, Boss. Seein' things..." the smile stayed firmly in place.

"What are you seeing?" Gibbs asked.

"My father," his laughter reignited. "Well, obviously a mirage of my father. Sadly enough, his ghost seems a lot friendlier than the real deal. Tellin' me he cares..." the sentence drifted off and into another fit of laughter.

Gibbs wasn't exactly sure how to handle the situation. But he stayed there with him until he laughed himself out and forced himself to breathe in a more controlled manner. "He gone?" Gibbs inquired, and Tony turned his head to look at him.

"Along with my sanity," he replied.

"Hallucinations can occur with high fever," Ziva told him from the table. They looked over at her in question. "I looked it up," she defended.

"Maybe you should try chewin' some more ice," Gibbs suggested to Tony, and looked at Ziva, signaling for her to get them for him. As she complied, he looked back to Tony. "Feelin' okay, otherwise?"

"Feelin' like I'm stoned outta my mind," he said with a grin, which quickly faded. "Not that I...would know...what being stoned outta my mind would...feel like. Yeah, I'm okay, Boss."

"We'll be landing in an hour and a half."

"I'm tryin' to _will_ myself better, Boss, but I don't feel like it's workin'."

"Here you are, Tony," Ziva handed him the cup of ice and he reached out to take it.

"Thanks, Zi," he smiled at her before glancing down at the cup. That's when his smile faded... Instead of seeing the ice, the cup seemed to be crawling with giant cockroaches... He jumped, dropping the cup, and spilling the contents all over himself, which only creeped him out more.

Gibbs was confused for a moment when Tony began freaking out; flailing and frantically trying to get the offensive creatures off of himself. "Get 'em off me!" he shrieked as his movements became more desperate.

"Tony!" Gibbs tried to calm him down.

"Get 'em off!" he scrambled off of the couch, falling into Gibbs and nearly ripping the IV from his arm.

"Tony, there's nothin' but ice! You're seein' things...calm down!" he wrapped his arms around him to stop him from hurting himself. Tony squeezed his eyes shut as a shudder ran through him; his fists balled up against his chest as he tried to let the information Gibbs gave him, sink in.

"I wanna go home, Boss," he said with a shaky voice as he attempted to stop his racing heart.

"I know," Gibbs replied in barely a whisper.

"What happened?" Ducky asked as he and McGee returned from the lounge.

Ziva walked over to them, keeping them back for the moment as she quietly explained. As Gibbs continued his attempt to calm his agent, Tim made his way to the couch to clean up the ice; avoiding disturbing his boss's efforts. When he'd gotten every last piece up, he re-stacked the pillows and gathered the already warmed compresses and glanced at Gibbs.

Tony had passed out; laying limply in Gibbs' arms, he seemed as small and fragile as a child. "Help me get him back on the couch," Gibbs whispered to McGee. Tim nodded and moved to lift Tony's legs as Gibbs stood with the upper half of his body and carefully lowered him down on the pillows. Ducky was beside them, waiting with some make-shift ice packs. Gibbs took them from him and placed them in the appropriate places as Ducky checked the IV.

"Timothy, please grab a couple more of the ice packs," Ducky said as he examined Tony, realizing the sheen layer of sweat on his forehead and the rapidness of his breathing. "His fever is rising," he told Gibbs. "I'm going to lower his morphine drip, some. See if that helps any."

"But won't that make him feel worse?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm not dropping it entirely, Jethro. But if he must endure some pain, I'd rather it be that, than allowing his fever to spike so high that it kills him."

The thought caused Gibbs' heart to jump to his throat. He appraised the slumbering agent as McGee handed Ducky the extra ice packs. Then he felt a hand on his arm and he turned to see Ziva standing beside him, holding a cup of coffee she'd retrieved for him. As he accepted it, she leaned up to kiss his cheek; a gesture meant to comfort him, that didn't go unappreciated.

"Thanks, Ziver," he told her before turning to go to his seat...

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"C'mon, DiNozzo," the sound of Gibbs' voice pulled Tony from his sleep, and he felt himself being guided into a chair and buckled in.

"Where we goin', Boss?" he mumbled.

"Home," he told him. "'bout to land."

Tony gave weak smile with his eyes still heavily closed, "Looks like I'm gonna make it, huh?" Gibbs buckled his own seat belt as Tony's head laid back in the chair.

The descent seemed to take a lifetime, but once they came to a halt on the ground, the team moved quickly to get Tony out of the plane. Paramedics stood ready for them as they assisted in getting Tony onto the gurney.

"Hey, hey, watch the...watch the hair, man," Tony slurred to one of the medics. Gibbs smirked, slightly relieved that the agent's sense of humor was still intact.

"My brother is a barber," the paramedic responded; his thick German accent clearly obvious. "When we are done here, perhaps I give you his card."

"Er wird Ihnen die Fahrt zum Krankenhaus zur Hölle machen, aber versuchen Sie es sich nicht anmerken zu lassen, das macht es nur noch schlimmer," Ziva told the German medic.

_*He will make the trip to the hospital hell for you, but don't let him notice, it will make it worse.*_

The medic flashed her a smile, "Mit solchen Patienten habe ich keine Probleme, es sind die Ängstlichen mit denen ich nicht so gut zu Recht komme."

_*I don't have a problem with those patients, but it's the terrified which I can't handle.*_

"Ich bin mir sicher er hat Angst, aber er verbirgt sie ziemlich gut durch

Witze und Filmzitate, ich habe Sie gewarnt!" she replied.

_*I'm sure he is scared, but he hides it through jokes and film quotes, I warned you.*_

With a quick smile shared, the medics loaded the gurney into the ambulance; Ducky joining them in the back before they closed the doors. The rest of the team hurried toward the parking lot in search for Gibbs' car...

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Gibbs had ordered Ziva and McGee to go home and get some rest, after taking them to his house to get their cars. Then he'd returned to the hospital, finding Ducky in the emergency room waiting area. Once he spotted the lead agent, the doctor stood to meet him.

"How's he doin', Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"They have him in a tepid bath in order to bring down the fever," he began; his eyes giving away indication of worry. "He started convulsing on the ride here."

"What?" Gibbs' fear was renewed.

"His temperature has already gone down some since he's been here, Jethro. All we can do now is wait."

"Did they confirm what's wrong with him?"

"They're running the blood test now," he informed. "They should know soon. Are you feeling alright?" he examined the agent's pale demeanor.

"I'm fine," he claimed.

"It's been a long and exhausting, stressful flight, Jethro. You should go home and get some rest. I'll stay here."

"I said I'm fine, Ducky," he said in frustration. "I'm not leavin' here without knowin' what's gonna happen to him."

Doctor Mallard took a breath and sighed, "As I suspected. Well at least allow me to get you some coffee." Gibbs nodded dismissively and brushed past him toward the waiting area. A couple, maybe in their forties, sat fearfully in the row of chairs. He decided he'd stand; pace, really.

A few short minutes went by, when he was pacing in the direction of the emergency doors and a young surgeon, slightly resembling an older version of Jimmy Palmer, came through the doors and made eye contact with Gibbs. The agent paused in his steps and the man approached him with a sympathetic look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Sir," he told him. "We did everything we could..."

Gibbs felt everything inside of him drop to the floor. "What?" came in barely a whisper. "H- he just got here..."

"Sir, aren't you with Daniel Marcus?" the surgeon asked. Gibbs shook his head, confused. Then heard a shrieking sob coming from the couple sitting nearby. "Oh...god I'm sorry, Sir," he apologized and made his way toward the couple.

Gibbs turned in place, swallowing as he tried to allow relief to extinguish the dread that had just overwhelmed his entire being. Ducky stood several feet away, having heard the mix-up as he'd returned with Gibbs' coffee. He met his eyes for a moment. Then Gibbs walked past him to the bathroom.

He barely made it to the sink before vomiting; the only way he could figure to let go of the unexpected and sudden reign of terror that had been so brief, yet jarring beyond comprehension. Knowing that he could still receive such news, pulled at him even more...

*~.~*

Ducky waited, leaning his back against the wall outside the bathroom door; coffee still in-hand. He, himself, had known that the surgeon was in no way connected to Tony's caretakers; that his announcement hadn't been for Tony. But Gibbs didn't know that at the time, and Ducky knew that it had struck a chord in his friend.

As if he'd not already been through enough fearsome moments on this latest journey with his senior agent... This was most definitely an explanation for the retching that Ducky heard through the bathroom door from his dear friend.

Doctor Mallard's main concern now, wasn't for Tony's life, but for his state of mind. The high fever...hallucinations and convulsions, caused him worry for the possibility of full recovery. It would, indeed, be a long road ahead, if that were the case. And not just for their Very Special Agent.

Gibbs quietly emerged from the bathroom, not even noticing Ducky at first. "Jethro..." he turned at his friend's voice. "I'm sorry that you were the unfortunate victim to that young man's ignorance. Please believe me when I say, I do believe that Anthony will be alright."

Gibbs nodded, almost submissively, "I believe ya, Duck. I _wanna_ believe you..."

Ducky stepped forward, slipping a hand onto his friend's shoulder, "I know that it's quite difficult to wait. But if you promise me you'll at least sit for a while, I'll go and see how he's progressing."

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It had been a little over an hour before Tony was put into a room in the ICU. His dressings had been changed; IV cannula replaced. Ducky had explained what they'd done to help him, and that they'd be monitoring him through the night to be sure and keep his temperature within normal levels. And that they'd confirmed that he had, indeed, contracted Dengue Fever.

As they stood beside his bed, appraising the appearance of the agent, Ducky informed him further, "He hasn't regained consciousness since what happened in the ambulance. But he's been through a lot. He needs his rest, as do you."

"I'm stayin' here, Duck," he told him. "You go home. You need your rest, too."

"I'll have them bring in a cot for you," the M.E knew not to waste his time trying to convince him otherwise. "_Do_ at least try and get some sleep tonight. Tony is in good hands."

Gibbs nodded as his friend headed out, and he looked back down at Tony...

_"Tell me somethin' I don't know about you," Gibbs said._

_ "I don't think...that even...exists," Tony laughed._

_ "Gotta be somethin'. Best memory on the job?"_

_ "Easy one...when you...told me...I...made you ...proud..."_

Gibbs closed his eyes at the recollected memory, then opened them as he bent down beside Tony's ear. "You still make me proud, Tony," he said in barely a whisper. "Every day..." he blinked back a resentful tear. He should've said this long ago...or at least when the agent was awake. As he sat down in the chair beside the bed, he watched over him; listening to the comforting sound of the monitor beside him, letting him know that everything was okay for the moment...

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**tbc...**


	9. Chapter 9

Three days... It'd been three whole days since they'd landed home, and three grueling days without Tony regaining consciousness. Three heart-wrenching, restless days and nights that Gibbs' team spent wondering if he ever would...

One new case since they'd returned, causing the team to go about their jobs without their teammate. It was Ziva who had commented on the idea, the analogy, that the team was a body, trying to function without its heart. McGee, of course, being the analytical person he was, had begun to take the analogy literally, and started to suggest the impossibility of that statement. After the first few moments of his ramblings, Ziva stopped him. In turn, he'd apologized.

Gibbs had overheard the small conversation from where he'd been interviewing a witness. He'd smirked for a mere moment before the grim feeling returned and wiped it from his face. After they were done for the day, once he'd showered and changed, he returned to the hospital, like every night since they'd been back.

And like every other night, Ziva and McGee had stopped in to see Tony after work; leaving once Gibbs arrived. Soon after, Abby and Ducky would come, offering to stay the night so Gibbs could go home and sleep. But like the past few nights, he refused. This time, however, they'd expected it. And Abby had been sure to stop and pick him up something to eat before arriving at the hospital. She'd also brought yet another 'get well' balloon to go with the one she'd brought the previous night. Really, it was just a red balloon decorated with black and white skulls, in which she wrote the words 'get well', and it matched the black balloon with red and white skulls she'd brought the night before. This, along with a few lab-made cottonball bouquets, were scattered about the room.

Upon his acceptance of the white paper bag of dinner, Abby gave him a quick hug before she began to follow Ducky out of the room. But they stopped suddenly, after hearing a small sound coming from Tony's direction. The three of them turned their attention to the ailing agent as his head began to lull to one side; a pained expression washing his features.

"I'll get the doctor," Ducky said as Gibbs and Abby went to Tony's bedside.

"Tony?" Abby called softly as she reached out to take his hand. They were rewarded with a small grunt. It made her smile, until the pained expression on his face only seemed to worsen. "Tony, are you hurting?"

Gibbs watched the familiar nod his agent gave, reminding him of the immense pain he'd woken up with in Djibouti. Abby glanced up at Gibbs before turning to go find Ducky. Then Gibbs stood in her place, glancing at the monitors as they began to sound quiet alarms. "Tony," Gibbs watched the man roll onto his side, curling himself as much as he could on that bed. "Breathe," he told him as he placed a hand on his arm. "Docs are comin'. You're gonna be okay."

"Good god, who lowered his morphine drip this much?" Ducky exclaimed as he reentered the room, followed by a nurse and neurologist.

"I wanted to see if it would assist in pulling him out of the comatose state," the neurologist explained.

"By causing him pain?" Gibbs glared at the man, who seemingly ignored the remark as he walked past him to Tony's side.

"You can raise it up again," he told the nurse. "Agent DiNozzo, can you hear me?" Tony nodded. "Can you squeeze my hand?" he asked he placed it in his. After a moment, Tony squeezed. The neurologist looked at the nurse who nodded, signaling the morphine had been kicked up. "When you start feeling a bit better, I want you to try and open your eyes for me, okay?" His pager started to beep and he checked it where it was attached to the waist of his pants. "Damn...I have to go; there's an emergency. I'll be back," he said as he rushed out.

"Dr. Foreman can be a bit extreme," the nurse told them once he'd left the room. "I apologize if he seemed heartless. But he _is_ very good at what he does."

"Sounds like...someone I know," Tony rasped as he rolled slowly onto his back.

"I'll be right down the hall if you need me," the nurse told them before turning to leave.

"Are you feeling better now, Anthony?" Ducky asked.

"A little," he replied, attempting to open his eyes.

"You had us all so worried," Abby told him as she took his hand again.

"Hey, Abs," he said once his eyes focused. She smiled at him and his eyes shifted to Doctor Mallard who stood closer to his head.

He pulled out a small flashlight from his suit coat pocket, "Allow me to check your pupil response," he said before leaning over and administering the test the neurologist had, no doubt, been about to do.

"What are ya doin', Ducky?" Tony flinched as the doctor flashed the light into each eye. "My eyes are fine..."

"Yes, you seem to be quite well," Ducky said as he put the device back into his pocket.

Tony threw a confused glance around the room, settling on Gibbs who was at his other side. "Boss... Why's everyone look so surprised to see me?" he flashed a nervous grin.

"You've been out since we got back," Gibbs told him.

Tony blinked, still a bit confused. "How long?"

"Three days," Ducky told him. "You're body had been through a lot, Tony. You needed the rest."

"Tony, I'm so glad you're okay!" she'd looked like she could hardly contain herself any longer, before leaning down to hug him; careful not to graze near his wound. He brought his free arm up to hug her in return. "We've been so worried about you... Ziva's been extra grouchy and McGee...well he's been extra quiet, and you know something's wrong when he's so quiet," she rambled as she pulled gently away. "Gibbs has been here every night, watching over you like a mother hen-"

"Abby..." Gibbs warned.

"Well, the point is, we've all been super worried. I'm so glad you're awake!"

Tony seemed to relax a bit and gave her a small smile as he noticed the get-well gifts she'd left him. "Thanks, Abby," he told her in a quiet voice. "So how long am I in for, Duck?"

"That, I'll have to discuss with your neurologist. It seems they've gotten your fever under control. From this point out, you'll simply be recovering from both your wound and the after-effects of the Dengue Fever."

"So that's what I had, after all, huh?" he smirked.

"I'm afraid so. Look at the bright side, though: you nearly slept through the worst of it."

"I've been sleeping for three straight days...you'd think I wouldn't be so tired still," Tony said before entering into a yawn.

Gibbs looked over at Abby and Ducky, "You should go home and get some sleep," he told them.

"But Gibbs!" Abby protested.

"Now, Abigail," Ducky took her arm, "We do need to work in the morning and it's getting late. Jethro will keep a good eye on Tony." The sleepy goth gave in with little fight.

After saying their goodbyes, they exited the room, leaving Tony and Gibbs alone. Gibbs sank down into the chair beside the bed as Tony's head rolled to look over at him. "You don't have to stay, Boss," he told him. "I'm okay."

"You've been awake ten minutes," he cocked his head. "I'm not sure you're qualified to make that call, DiNozzo."

"Seriously though, as long as we get to bring this morphine with us, we could just split this joint-"

"Tony..." he warned.

"Right, Boss... I'll just...wait and see what the doc says." Gibbs couldn't help but smirk.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**Super short, I know. Shoulda posted this last night, but didn't think it was long enough. Now, however, I feel like enough time has passed that SOMETHING needs to be up lol. I'll try and get a couple more pages done and posted tonight, but no promises. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Rule 44: never strike a federal officer. Looked this up after last night's ep :). Number 51? I'm guessing will be made via the next ep. So sad this is the finale. It means much missing of my favorite show. And since Lost will be over, and House had its finale, what am I gonna do! Oh I know! Write :)**

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Two days passed before Tony was cleared to leave the hospital under Gibbs' care. Tony was ecstatic as he entered the passenger seat of Gibbs' car. But by the time he'd made it from the car to Gibbs' front door, he felt overwhelmingly exhausted.

"Think I'm gonna take a breather on the couch for a minute, Boss," he said as he stumbled into the living room. Gibbs closed the door and observed Tony's uncomfortable form sinking onto the couch with a huff.

"I had Ziva pick up some stuff from your place," Gibbs told him. "I put it in the downstairs guestroom. Figured you shouldn't be usin' the stairs much till you're healed up." Tony simply nodded in acknowledgment. Gibbs sat in the chair across from the couch. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Ducky's pickin' up your prescriptions. He'll be by soon."

"They gave me some pain killers before we left. I'm okay, really, Boss. Just tired."

Gibbs nodded in understanding. "You hungry? I've got a couple steaks thawed."

Tony grinned, "You thawed me a steak? That was...really nice of you. Maybe I shouldn't let you know about how the doc said to slowly work my way up to solid foods..."

"I'll cut it up real small," he smirked as he stood to go to the kitchen.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Tony had fallen asleep before the steaks were even done; curled up on the couch. When Gibbs noticed it, he smirked and carried the agent's plate to the refrigerator. He heard Ducky come in just moments later, entering the kitchen quietly as he passed the sleeping agent.

"Good evening, Jethro," he greeted as he set a bag down on the counter. "How long has he been asleep?"

"Not more than ten minutes," he replied. "He was pretty exhausted when we got here. That normal?" he narrowed his eyes in preparation for the answer.

"Well, yes. The pain killers are probably assisting with the drowsiness. But in reality, though the Dengue Fever has run its course, the fatigue will remain until he can fully recover. It's very much like influenza, in a way. Only quite a bit worse. And the fact that he'd lost so much blood from his wound, his body has gone through a lot. It will take some time to get back to his usual self."

"What's in the bag?" Gibbs asked as he approached the table, eying it with curiosity.

Ducky smirked a little, "I suspected you might need some groceries," he began to unpack the contents. "Soups, fruits and vegetables, for the most part. These would be ideal for Anthony over the next week. Here are his meds as well," he handed him a small white bag. "As needed for pain. There's also some anti-nausea pills in here, as well. He may need them."

"Sports drinks?" he inquired as Ducky pulled out several bottles of blue liquid.

"He needs the electrolytes. Were you going to give him steak, Jethro?" he asked as he eyed the plate in the fridge next to where he'd planned to put the drinks.

Gibbs cocked his head and smirked, guiltily, "He wanted it, Duck."

"Well...I suppose if he took the time to chew properly, it might be okay. But I couldn't promise there wouldn't be digestive complications, if you catch what I'm telling you." He closed the fridge after placing the items that needed to go in. "Abigail expressed the desire to come by and check in on the two of you."

"She still at the building?"

"Yes. Ziva and Timothy were there with her, working on that case. I only left to beat traffic and get the prescriptions before the pharmacy closed for the evening. Though, I am finished with the autopsy, and Mr. Palmer stayed to clean up."

"I told Ziva and McGee to go home," he said with narrowed eyes.

"Yes," Ducky smirked, "But are you surprised they didn't follow that order?"

Gibbs cocked his head again, "Got a point, I guess."

"They've been working hard to make up for Tony's absence. They really do miss him being around; even the childish antics," he winked.

"He'll be back sooner than they think. Then they'll wonder why they missed the antics at all," he grinned and peeked over at Tony, still asleep.

"I spoke with the director before heading out," he told him, and Gibbs gave him a questioning look. "Well, I met him in the elevator on the way down to the garage. He asked about Tony, and wanted me to let him know that he has plenty of medical leave time."

Gibbs nodded and turned to pour himself coffee. Ducky resumed putting away the groceries during the span of silence. He appraised his friend, noticing he seemed a bit exhausted as he sat down at the table with his steaming mug. But he didn't drink from it; he seemed a bit preoccupied.

"You haven't been sleeping much lately," it was more of a statement than a question. Gibbs shrugged. "Perhaps you should take advantage of the time and take a nap? I can stay and keep an eye on Anthony while you do."

Gibbs considered protesting the suggestion, but the thought seemed pretty desirable. He looked down at his untouched coffee, then up at Ducky, "You want this?"

The doctor chuckled, "I'll be sure it doesn't go to waste. Go on," he told him, and was pleased when he stood and headed for the stairs.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

When Gibbs awoke, he realized it was dark out. _Slept too long_, he thought as he pulled himself out of bed. He headed immediately downstairs to relieve Ducky, but upon reaching the living room, he realized Abby, Ziva and Tim were there, talking to Tony who was sitting up on the couch, awake.

"Where's Ducky?" Gibbs asked.

"We told him to go home and get some sleep, Gibbs," Abby told him. Gibbs eyes the near-empty bottle of sports drink on the coffee table in front of Tony.

"How long have you been up?" he asked his senior agent.

"Just a little longer than you, Boss," he told him; discomfort evident in his voice.

"Feelin' okay?"

"He says he feels as though he has been hit by a truck," Ziva explained.

"Ducky gave him some pain killers before he left," McGee told him.

"They're starting to kick in," Tony added, "Just not takin' this achy feeling away."

"You eat anything?" Gibbs inquired.

"Had some soup earlier," he replied. "And I'm desperately tryin' to keep it down..."

"I just gave him one of the nausea pills," Tim told him.

"It's my fault, Gibbs," Abby said with an apologetic look on her face. "I brought him a 'welcome home' cupcake, and he almost turned green when he smelled it. I put it in the fridge..."

"It's okay, Abs," Tony said. "Once my stomach decides to stop doing cartwheels, I'm sure I'll want it. Just keep McCupcakethief away from the fridge."

"Hey," McGee defended, "I only ate Abby's cupcake to save her from herself..."

"He bought me another one," Abby told him. "But I'm sure the one Ziva gave me was much yummier." She glanced down at her watch, "Ohmygosh...I've gotta go!" she stood. "I'm meeting some friends tonight at this club...there's a band playing there tonight that's supposed to be really awesome."

"Don't stay out too late," Gibbs said, kissing her cheek as she stopped next to him. "Gotta work in the morning."

"When have I ever let my partying affect my work, Gibbs?" she smirked with narrowed eyes before saying her goodbyes and heading out.

"So," Tony sighed, "Have any interesting cases you're workin' on?"

"An apparent suicide of a Navy Petty Officer," Tim replied. "She jumped from a third story balcony. No apparent witnesses. No signs of struggle."

"Abby tested her blood for drug use and found nothing," Ziva added. "But, Gibbs..." she glanced at him before continuing, "Has a gut feeling."

"Don't think it's a suicide," Gibbs elaborated.

"You got the case file?" Tony asked.

Tim furrowed his brow. "In my car. Why?"

"Because I've got nothing better to do, Probie. Humor me?" McGee shrugged after glancing at Gibbs, who didn't show any signs of protest, and went to get the file.

Gibbs headed into the kitchen to fetch a cup of coffee. "Need anything while I'm in here?" he called.

"I'm good, Boss," Tony replied. When he returned to the living room, Tim and Ziva were sitting on either side of Tony on the couch, explaining what they'd found, and Tony was examining a picture of the dead girl. Gibbs took a seat in one of the chairs across from the couch and set his coffee down on the table. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he watched Tony's face as he examined the photo.

"See something we didn't?" Gibbs asked.

Tony's eyes flickered up to meet his for a moment, before looking down at the photo again. "Did you talk to her boyfriend?" he asked.

Tim furrowed his brow, "Uh...we weren't really sure she had a boyfriend, Tony."

"Well, clearly she _did_. Look at the sweatshirt she's wearing," he pointed. "See how the sleeves are folded up? It's too big for her. And it's a college sweatshirt, and she's not going to school, according to her file."

"It could belong to a friend," Ziva said.

"Maybe," Tony replied. "But I've got a gut feeling it belongs to someone who's more than a friend, Zee-vah. And that person might know something more about what happened."

"Well, no one we've talked to seems to know about the guy, if that's the case," Tim said. "How are we even gonna begin to search?"

"Shirt says GWU," Tony pointed out.

"We'll head out there in the morning," Gibbs chimed in. "Show her picture around and see if anyone recognizes her and who she'd been with."

"Wait a minute..." Tony said as he looked at the toxicology report. "How did she get into the Navy with Parkinson's?"

"She had Parkinson's?" Ziva asked as she looked at the report.

"It says there was a drug called levodopa in her system. That's a Parkinson's medication," Tony said and looked up from the file. They were all looking at him with question as to how he knew that. "I...had a girlfriend once, that had it... Nosed through her medicine cabinet one night in search of tylenol."

"She would've been discharged," Gibbs said, "Soon as she started the meds."

"Maybe she was hiding it?" McGee suggested.

Tony looked at the photo again, noticing the mascara-run streaks on her face from tears. "Or maybe she didn't know what she was taking..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Tony's a genius, Gibbs!" Abby said, excitedly as she pranced around the lab.

"I'll have to concur," Ducky said to Gibbs as he and McGee stood expectantly for explanation. "Petty Officer Allison did _not_ have Parkinson's disease, after all."

"Which means someone was poisoning her," Abby said. "There's enough in her system to assume she'd been taking it for probably at least a few days."

"How does that help explain what happened?" Gibbs inquired.

"Well, taking levodopa without having the disease, can cause psychosis, among many other things..." Ducky explained.

"And if someone was giving it to her, chances are that they were trying to get her thrown out of the Navy," Abby suggested.

"I'll go figure out who she had contact with in the Navy; who she might've bunked with or gone through training with," McGee said before exiting.

Gibbs pulled out his cell and dialed Ziva's number. When she answered, he directed her, "Call GWU and have them give you a list of known students being treated for Parkinson's. Then find out if she'd ever been involved with any of them. If we find any leads, we'll go out there."

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Ducky's cell phone rang in his coat pocket which was hanging on the coat rack in the morgue. He stood from his desk, where he'd been going over the case report after speaking with Gibbs in Abby's lab, and retrieved it. Surprised to see Tony's name on the caller I.D, he answered immediately, "Is everything alright, Anthony?" he asked.

_"Yeah, Ducky...sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if it's okay that I take another pain killer now?"_

"When was the last time you took one?"

_"Uh...Gibbs gave me one before leaving for work this morning."_

"That was just a couple of hours ago. Are you still in pain?"

_"It didn't really help, honestly," _his discomfort was heard clearly through the phone.

"Well, I suppose you can take one more for now. But I'm going to come by and make sure you're alright."

_"You don't have to do that, Duck. I'll be okay..."_

"Quite possibly," Ducky replied, "However, I'd feel more comfortable if I were able to confirm that, myself. I'll be by soon."

_"Hey, Ducky?"_

"Yes?"

_"Don't tell Gibbs... I don't want him to feel like I need a sitter or anything."_

"I'll hold off," he smirked, "He's out with Ziva checking some loose ends on the Allison case anyway."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Gibbs knocked on the dorm-room door for the second time, before a scrawny looking college student opened the door. "NCIS," Gibbs said as he held up his badge. "We're here to talk to Fred Hearst."

"Fred's not here," the young man answered. "He's at a doctor's appointment. What does NCIS want with _him_?"

"We're investigating a possible murder," he told him. "Mind if we come in and take a look around?"

"Uh..." the kid turned his head to look into the room, then looked back at him. "It's kind of a mess in here right now..."

"We're not health inspectors," Gibbs smirked.

"What is your name?" Ziva asked him with a kind look on her face.

The kid blushed when he saw her, "Jack," he replied.

"Jack," she smiled, "We just want to take a look. You would not mind, would you?"

"Uh...no...sure, come on in," he opened the door and stood out of their way as they entered. "So you're investigating a murder, eh? Why do you wanna talk to Fred?"

"Because he may know the victim," Gibbs replied as he looked around the room.

"Are you good friends with Fred?" Ziva asked, giving her full attention to the young man.

"We've been friends since the third grade," he grinned. "He's a pretty good guy. We both planned on ending up in the same college and rooming together. His brother almost messed that up for us, though."

"Why is that?" she asked.

"His brother joined the Navy right out of high school," he replied. "Tried to convince both of us to join, too. But...well, I'm not cut out for that kinda stuff," he shied.

"Maybe since you are good friends with Fred, you might also know the victim," Ziva said. "Her name is Carrie Allison."

His eyes lit up, "Carrie's dead?" he seemed devastated.

"You knew her?"

"Uh...yeah. She was Eric's girlfriend in high school. She was in Fred and I's class. Once she graduated, she joined the Navy so she could go be with him... I...I can't believe she's dead... W- what happened to her? Who did this?"

"Fred has Parkinson's disease, as you must know," Ziva said and he nodded.

"Yeah, him and his brother both have it. Their mom had it, too. She died late last year..."

"Eric has Parkinson's?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah..."

"And he has not been discharged from the Navy?"

"He uh... he didn't tell them. He gets all his medication through Fred. Oh man...I'm not getting them in trouble, am I? Shit... please don't tell them I told you!"

Gibbs reentered the room upon hearing the conversation, "How, exactly, does Fred get away with getting enough of the medication to support them both?" he asked.

"I'm not really sure," he replied.

"When he gets back, you tell him to call us," Gibbs handed him a card.

"Thank you for your help, Jack," Ziva gave him a small smile.

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Ducky entered Gibbs' house less than twenty minutes after he ended the call with Tony. Upon shutting the door and hanging his coat, he ventured into the house. Not seeing him on the couch, he checked the guest room, but he wasn't there either. "Tony?" he called out.

"In here," he heard come from the kitchen, and made his way there. Once he entered the kitchen, he saw Tony sitting on the floor up against the cabinets.

"My word, what happened?" he asked as he made his way to him.

"Got in here to take the pain killer, and decided there was no way I was gonna make it back by myself, till it kicks in," he explained.

"Well then, let me help you-"

"No!" he held up a hand. "No, Duck...just lemme sit here."

Ducky pulled a chair closer toward him and sat. "Is it your stomach?" he asked.

Tony nodded behind closed eyes, "Feels like constant cramping. If I move, it gets even worse... Sorry to make you come all the way out here..."

"Nonsense. I'm the least needed at work at the moment. For the time being, anyway." He studied the agent as he laid his head back on the cabinet.

"Why am I so damned exhausted all the time?" he sighed. "I mean...I know _why_, but...when is it gonna stop?"

"Once you've had time to heal, we can worry about your fatigue in a different light," he told him, reassuringly. "You simply need to rebuild your strength. But you can't do that while you're recovering from such a serious injury. You need the rest to let yourself heal."

"Yeah well I'll rest when I'm not forcibly awake from the pain," he said as he began to get drowsy.

"I'll see if they can't call you in something different to try, since this doesn't seem to be doing a very good job."

"'kay," he replied simply.

"Do you feel like you can be helped to bed now?"

"I think so," he replied, cracking his eyes open to look at him. "My head hurts."

"You're probably hungry," he commented. "Let me help you to bed, and I'll fix you some toast and tea."

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"Carrie's really dead?" Fred Hearst asked from his seat in interrogation. "I don't understand...who'd want to hurt her?"

"There were no signs of struggle," Gibbs told him. "Looks like she killed herself."

"Suicide?" his eyes welled with tears. "But she was happy. She was just hanging with us last week...having lunch with me and Jack. She told us Eric proposed to her. She...oh god....does Eric know what happened?"

"No one's informed him, yet, that we know of. You're sure they weren't having any problems?"

"I don't think so. She was home on leave since last week. Eric was supposed to come home next week and they were gonna fly out to Vegas and get hitched..."

"Eric's still deployed. Has been for over four months now, right?" he confirmed.

"Yeah."

"Our medical examiner found Levodopa in her blood."

"What? That...that's not possible. She doesn't have Parkinson's..."

"Yeah, we know that. We also know you've been getting levodopa for your brother, as well. But not from your doctor."

Hearst seemed a bit nervous now, "Yeah...we order it online. It's legal, but we had to do it in a way that they couldn't find out it was for him."

"Who's _we_?" he asked.

"Jack...orders it for me. I pay him and he ships it to Eric for me. Eric's gonna be discharged, isn't he..."

"I'm more interested in who was poisoning Petty Officer Allison," he said in a louder voice. "Were you jealous of your brother? Did you love Carrie?"

"No! What? Of course I loved her...she's like a sister to me. I would never do anything to hurt her!"

"You sayin' she was takin' those drugs by choice?"

"No...she knows what it could do to her. She took one a year ago, and it made her act all crazy. She and Eric were out at a club with Jack that night. Jack told me they almost split up because of the way she was acting... But Jack never told Eric what made her act that w-" his focus wavered a bit; darting in the air between them.

"What?" Gibbs asked through narrowed eyes.

"Jack...really liked Carrie," he told him. "He used to be a pretty husky guy. He lost a lot of weight recently, hoping when Carrie came home on leave, that she'd notice. He got pretty drunk after she told us her and Eric were engaged..."

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**tbc...**


	11. Chapter 11

**One week later...**

Gibbs parked in front of his house and made his way toward the front door with a pizza box in-hand. Tony had gotten much better over the past week. His wound had nicely healed, and he'd worked successfully at getting his appetite back to normal. When Gibbs had left for work that morning, Tony had told him he was going to go for a short run. Gibbs thought he'd bring a pizza home in celebration, quite happy that the agent was quickly getting back to his normal self.

As he shut the front door, his eye caught movement at the top of the stairs and he looked up to see Tony sitting at the top; his back against the wall. "What're ya doin', DiNozzo?" he asked before setting the pizza down on the foyer table.

Tony met his eyes, "Contemplating my ability to ever return to work," he replied flatly.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes and decidedly climbed the stairs, sitting down on the top beside him. "Come to any conclusion?" he raised his brows. Tony let his head drop as he closed his eyes briefly, and Gibbs noticed the shirt he was wearing. "That my shirt?" he asked.

"Yep," he replied as he looked back up at him. "Ya know how I said I was gonna go for a run today?" Gibbs nodded. "Well, I was going through my clothes and realized I didn't have anything clean. So I threw in some laundry and decided I didn't wanna wait for them to get done. I came up here to borrow one of your shirts. Guess I didn't realize how much the climb took outta me till I got back out into the hall. By the time I reached the stairs, I couldn't even stand anymore," his head dropped again.

"When did you come up here?" Gibbs asked after a few moments.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost six."

"Couple hours ago," he said with a weak smile. "Fairly pathetic that I've just been sitting up here all this time trying to find the strength to carry my ass back downstairs before you got home to find me like this."

"Are you in pain?" he asked with a furrowed brow; trying to contemplate what exactly was happening.

"Not...exactly," he replied. "My muscles ache. It's kinda like I've been swimming across the ocean...from Alcatraz Island to the shore. And once you get outta the water, you feel a hundred pounds heavier. Movement is suddenly impossible, and you ache from all that swimming..."

"Ducky said it'd be a while before you fully recover from the Dengue Fever," Gibbs tried to reassure him.

"How long, Boss? 'cause I gotta say, I'm really starting to lose hope here..." he took a few frustrated breaths through his nose. "I feel completely useless. I wanna rebuild my strength, and I can't even make it out the door..." his voice cracked. "And it's not even just physically," he confessed as he looked down. "I feel like I'm losing my mind. Yesterday, I was watchin' The Green Mile, and I literally cried like a little girl when they executed John Coffey," he laughed, despite the ache. "Today, right before I came up here, I was lookin' out the window at this little kid riding his tricycle up the street with a big grin on his face... and damned if I didn't start cryin' _again_! What...what the hell is wrong with me?" his voice cracked again and he cursed under his breath as he felt his eyes begin to sting with fresh tears. He covered his face with his hands, embarrassed, "Shit...sonofabitch..."

"Hey," Gibbs put an arm over his shoulders. "I know you've heard it before, but you've been through a lot. You lost your father. And you were stabbed; almost died. Then spent a sixteen-hour flight fighting a fever we really couldn't do much about, that could've killed you just as well. I'm surprised you've held it together as well as ya have."

"Till today, ya mean," he said through sniffles.

Gibbs smirked, "Everybody has their boiling points, Tony. You're frustrated about a lot of things right now. Mostly because you're impatient. I would be, too. But you'll get better. Just gotta give it time."

"What if it takes too much time, Boss? You'll have to replace me, eventually."

"You're not replaceable," he told him. "Even on your ass on my couch, there's no way I could replace you," he felt Tony shift closer to him and take in a shaky breath. "You helped us solve the Allison case, with one look into the file. Ya think you're useless? You're sooner outta your mind."

"I didn't solve the case, Boss. Just pointed out a couple things..."

"A couple things that it might've taken us a bit longer to find on our own. And by then, it mighta been too late to take down Jack McAllister before he took off. I'm not sayin' this to boost your ego, Tony. I'm sayin' it 'cause it's true. I think Ziva said it best a while back; our team is like a body, and when you're not there, it's like tryin' to work without its heart."

"Ziva said that?" Tony asked, seemingly surprised.

"Yeah, she did," he confirmed. "And I think she was right. You can't replace the heart, Tony. You can try to use an artificial one, but it's never the same. And it wouldn't be the same if you weren't there." He felt Tony's arms around him for a moment before he pulled away from him.

"Thanks, Boss... Sorry I broke down on ya like that."

Gibbs ruffled the back of Tony's hair before standing, "C'mon. Let's get you downstairs before that pizza gets cold."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**Two days later...**

McGee snapped pictures of the dead Marine who was found in a dumpster outside of a self-storage building. It was more like a mummy, than anything. How it got in the dumpster was anyone's guess. But, oddly enough, it wasn't the creepiest or grossest thing Tim had ever seen. He could even imagine the movie references Tony would be dishing out in this very moment, and it made him smirk.

"What's so funny?" Palmer asked as he stood beside McGee with a grin as he looked at the body.

"Oh uh...nothing. I was just thinkin' of Tony," he said as he snapped another picture. "I mean uh...well, that is...if he was here..."

"Yeah, I know," Palmer gave a small laugh. "Thebes, City of the Living. Crown jewel of Pharaoh Seti the First. Home of Imhotep, Pharaoh's high priest, keeper of the dead. Birthplace of Anck Su Namun, Pharaoh's mistress. No other man was allowed to touch her. But for their love, they were willing to risk life itself."

"What in the devil are you talking about, Mr. Palmer?" Ducky asked as he approached from the van.

"Oh uh...just a movie quote, Dr. Mallard. In honor of Agent DiNozzo..."

"From The Mummy," McGee elaborated. "But I guess it really doesn't fit, other than the obvious observation that this body seems to be mummified."

"What an odd bit to memorize," Ducky commented as he knelt beside the body.

"Well, it's just that I've seen it so many times..." Jimmy started, but abandoned it as Ducky looked up at him with a lack of patience. He knelt down next to the doctor.

"It does seem that the body has been through some sort of mummification process. Everything seems to be intact, including the lad's military uniform. I suppose that's why we were called..." Ducky looked up as Gibbs came from the storage office.

"Any idea on time of death, Duck?" he asked.

"Yes...long ago," he said. "I'll have to get him back to my cold table to determine anything further, Jethro. But I'd say he's been dead at least a year, if not two. And he's been kept somewhere sealed away; possibly wrapped in some kind of cloth, as it would seem, according to these patterns on his skin. You could probably attempt to get a fingerprint with that gadget of yours, Timothy," he said.

McGee dug into his bag to retrieve the device, and crouched down to carefully place one of the stiffened fingers onto the scanner. "Oh, wow...it actually read it," McGee seemed surprised as he stood and waited for results. Gibbs stood close to him, waiting for something to come up.

"The sanitation worker that found the body," Ziva said as she approached them, "Says that they pick up every Thursday morning. So it could not have been there for more than a week."

"Got something, Boss," McGee said. "Lieutenant Mitch Fretal; missing since June of 08," he looked up at his boss.

"Ziva, check and see if any of these storage units are being rented that date back at least that far. It's fairly safe to assume he wasn't killed right here. He was in a clear trash bag, so whatever was on him, is still on him. Go ahead and get him back to NCIS, Duck."

As the body was loaded into the van, Ziva came out with the manager, "There has not been any units rented that long, because this place has only been in business for eight months," Ziva began. "But, there was a new unit rented out four days ago. They needed the largest one available, and prepaid for the next three years."

"Can you open it?" Gibbs asked the manager.

"No problem," he said, and led them to the unit. "The guy that paid for the unit was kinda creepy. Had his face hidden with one of those scarf things...wore sunglasses and a hat. Kinda looked like Michael Jackson in a way, but he was a bigger dude."

"How did he pay you?" Gibbs asked.

"Cash. Signed a contract, but he was wearin' leather gloves, so I don't guess you'd be able to get a print from it." He stopped in front of the unit and unlocked it. "I don't know what all is in here, but if it's valuable, I hope you don't plan on breakin' anything. He might end up suing me..." He pulled open the door and the sun lit it up.

"Wow," McGee commented. "That's a lot of carpets." From wall to wall, the place was lined up with rolled carpets, standing up against each other. There were probably forty of them.

"A bit strange," Ziva said. "Why would someone want to store a bunch of carpets for three years?"

"If they were hiding a body in them," Gibbs said as he moved toward one. "McGee," he motioned for him to assist as he lowered one to lie flat on the ground. Then they slowly unraveled it. Inside, was a bagged, mummified body... The manager ran out of the unit to vomit, and McGee looked up at Gibbs. "We're gonna need a bigger van..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Very puzzling indeed," Ducky said as he examined the fifth of forty-one bodies. "How on earth did all of you end up in such a state? I don't suppose you'd be able to give me any more clues than your predecessors?" he was interrupted in thought by the hissing of the morgue doors, and he turned to see Gibbs as he approached him.

"Got anything for me, Duck?" he asked.

"Other than a request for more storage space?" he joked. "From what I can tell in the bodies I've examined so far, is that they'd all been killed within a year's time span. But I have only gotten through an eighth of the bodies."

"Any idea how they died?"

"Exsanguination," he informed him. "And I'm almost certain they were still alive when the process started. Each of them shows blunt force trauma to the skull, but not a deadly blow. They were simply knocked unconscious, then punctured here," he pointed the double puncture mark on the side of the neck, "Where the blood was then drained."

"Why would someone do this?" Gibbs asked.

"The way in which they were kept after death, suggests that the people or person who did this, wasn't simply keeping trophies or mementos. The fact that they were kept in storage, leads me to believe that they were simply trying to hide them from the world. But also, afraid that burying them wouldn't be a better avenue. He needed to feel in control of whether they could stay hidden."

"Just put them in there four days ago, Ducky."

"Yes, well, the condition of the carpets they were kept in, suggests they were in some other storage unit before being moved. Perhaps someone was catching on... Or perhaps he was feeling cocky. Needed to upgrade for more room. Which doesn't really explain why one of them was in the dumpster."

"Maybe I should call Fornell," Gibbs suggested. "They could at least help out with the rest of the bodies."

"That would be a wise choice, as I've only so far seen the one Marine. The rest of them have come up civilians or John Doe's." Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment, but stood there still, seeming slightly preoccupied. "It's getting late, Jethro. You should call it a night; go home and check in on Anthony."

"Tony's fine. Just called him. But I'm worried about him. Doesn't seem to be getting any strength back at all. He's getting frustrated, and I can understand why."

"I'll stop in and take a look at him tonight. I can take some blood; have Abby run some tests to make sure everything is okay, physiologically. But from what you shared with me the other day, I'd have to say I do believe he may be suffering from a bit of depression."

"Ya think?" he said almost sarcastically.

"I know this is hardly a good time, but he needs you," he told him. Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "You're the closest thing to a father that he's ever really had, Jethro. And even if he doesn't outright admit it, he needs you to need him. And the one thing that he can do in that aspect, he can't be here for."

"Well, I can't let him come back to work. He's not ready."

"Of course not. But, just as he helped with the Allison case, perhaps he can occupy some of his thoughts on this one." Gibbs cocked his head from side to side, trying to wager that option. "He needs a sense of accomplishment, Jethro."

"He also happens to not be an idiot, Ducky. If I start bringin' work home, he's gonna think I'm just tryin' to humor him."

"Are you certain of that? I believe that being a fresh mind to the case can sometimes be of tremendous help. But that aside, do give Fornell a call. Then go home."

Gibbs raised his brows, "That an order?" he smirked.

"Just the part about you going home afterward," the doctor winked.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Gibbs entered the bullpen where Ziva and Tim were going over snapshots of the missing persons reports on the big screen. "What do ya got?" he asked.

McGee looked over at him briefly, "All the victims are male," he began, "Between the ages of twenty-five and fifty. No apparent links between any of them. None of them lived in the same area."

"The western-most point is in Seattle," Ziva explained. "And there is an obvious trail ending in West Virginia."

"According to missing persons reports," Tim added, "The time-line shows that each victim was killed chronologically along the trail. No wavering. The line on the map is the path traveled. So he's been killing as he moves."

"Call storage facilities in each area; see if anyone noticed strange activity. I wanna know where this guy's been, and if there's a camera in any of those offices that may have captured his face."

"Uh well... it's after hours for storage facilities, Boss," McGee said.

"Well, do it in the morning, then," Gibbs said.

"We should stake out the storage unit," Ziva suggested. "He might come back."

"Fine. You and McGee, go down there until Fornell's men get there," he told them.

"Fornell?" McGee questioned. "You're bringing them into the case?"

"Only one of those bodies is our jurisdiction, McGee. And we're gonna need some help trackin' this guy down. So go watch for him, then when the FBI gets there, go home. Be here first thing in the morning."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Tony successfully managed to make two fairly decent-sized sandwiches. He grinned to himself as he placed them on two plates and carried them to the table. As he turned to get a drink from the fridge, he heard the front door open, thinking to himself, _perfect timing_.

"Hey, Boss," he called as Gibbs made his way into the kitchen.

"You made dinner?" Gibbs cocked his head.

"Well, I made sandwiches," Tony smirked as he handed him a beer. "Didn't wanna risk cookin' somethin' and burnin' the house down if I suddenly couldn't make it back to the kitchen."

Gibbs looked at the stacked concoction; a good amount of roast-beef topped with cheese and all the works. "Looks good," he said as he pulled out a chair and sat in front of the plate.

"Well, I just used whatever was in the fridge," he said as he sat with his own plate.

"You do okay today?" he asked before taking a huge bite of the sandwich.

"Decided to sleep for most of it. Got up and took a shower. Tested out the stairs again; didn't seem to have much trouble this time. Then I crashed on the couch a while... Got up and decided to make somethin' to eat and realized you'd probably be home. Guess you don't have a big case?"

"Actually, we do," Gibbs said after swallowing. "Huge case."

"Really?" Tony said with his mouth full, and an inquiring look on his face.

"Forty-one bodies," he sad before taking another bite.

"Holy shit...was there a bomb or something?" he guessed.

Gibbs shook his head. "Serial killer," he managed through the mouthful of food. "From what we can tell so far, he's been killing randomly," he swallowed before continuing, "Over the past couple of years. Leads all the way from Seattle to West Virginia."

"Where'd you find the bodies?" Tony asked, setting the sandwich aside for the moment.

"Sanitation worker called in, finding a body in a dumpster at a storage building. Then we found out someone had recently rented a unit there; prepaid in cash for the next three years."

"Bodies were in the unit?" Tony guessed and Gibbs nodded. "Do they have security tapes?"

Gibbs shook his head, "And the manager said the guy had his face covered up with a scarf and sunglasses. Wore a hat and gloves, too."

"Do you have any leads?"

"No. We're gonna call every storage facility from here to Seattle and see if anyone's seen him. Maybe he didn't wear his costume every time."

"How were they killed?"

"Duck says they were knocked out and had all the blood drained from their bodies," he told him. "They were all mummified, bagged and rolled up in carpets."

"Is that how the sanitation worker found the body? Rolled in a carpet?"

"No, he was just in a bag," he said as he stuck the rest of the sandwich in his mouth.

Tony's eyes darted around the table-top surface. "Forty bodies in the unit, each wrapped in a carpet...and one in the dumpster..." he squinted as he thought. "He's driven by ritual," he commented; or perhaps thought aloud. His gaze didn't leave the table. "He kills them all in the same way...stores them all the same way. Why would he leave one out? Did he run out of carpets?"

Gibbs smirked, but decided not to interrupt his line of thought. "Did he run outta room? Or...was he leaving a..." his brow furrowed as he met Gibbs' eyes. "The body found was military, I take it...since you were investigating. Were any of the others?"

"No," Gibbs shook his head, "Just the one."

"You said he was mummified. Ducky get a TOD?"

"Almost two years."

"He put that one out to be found, Boss. He's daring you. And chances are, if he's planning on being around for the next three years, he thinks you're not gonna be able to figure it out."

"If he knew our team would be called in, specifically...why? Why would he dare _me_?"

"Because you're the best, Boss," he replied in all seriousness. "If you can't catch him, he knows he's home free."

He was about to respond, but was interrupted by the ringing of his cell. Fishing it from his pocket, he answered, "Yeah, Gibbs."

_"We've got a problem, Jethro,"_ Fornell sounded on the other line. _"We just got here to take over the stake-out, and your agents' car is empty."_

"You sure they didn't see the guy and go after him?"

_"Would they leave their weapons, phones and behind?"_

"What..." Gibbs felt a sinking feeling in his gut. "Sonofabitch...he's got them..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**tbc...**


	12. Chapter 12

**20 minutes earlier...**

"The windows are starting to fog up," McGee said from the passenger seat. "Maybe we should turn the car on. It's freezing."

"If we turn on the car, then we give away our position, McGee," Ziva scolded.

"Yeah, but we can't even see anything!"

"Then perhaps we should go outside and wait?" she arched a brow.

"Wait where? Let's just roll down the windows. At least then, the air with defog the rest of them. Even if we freeze in the process."

"It is not _that_ cold," she said as she began to roll her window down.

"Cold enough that our breath is steaming up the windows," McGee said under his breath as he focused on rolling his window down. Then he heard a strange noise, "What was that?" he shot his head toward Ziva, just in time to see a weapon pointed at him from her window, before everything went black...

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**Present time...**

"You're tellin' me you didn't see anyone drivin' away from there when you pulled in?" Gibbs raised his voice as he prepared to leave the house. "Then he could still be there, Tobias! You get your men to search every damn unit if they have to!" he ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket and secured his weapon.

"Boss, ya gotta let me go with you," Tony said as he followed him toward the door.

"You're not ready for this, Tony."

"Tim and Ziva are in trouble! We have no idea how long he holds onto his victims before he decides to kill them. You've gotta let me help you find them!"

"I can't afford to lose you, too, DiNozzo!" he said as he closed the space between them. His eyes darted back and forth between Tony's as he considered the fact that he was probably taking this as a sign that Gibbs had lost faith in him. "I've got a whole team of FBI agents out there lookin' with me. I don't need your manpower on this; I need your mind. You call Duck and tell him what you told me. I need to know where this guy is gonna take them..." he flinched a bit at the mix of emotion on Tony's face, but he didn't have time for this right now. He turned and left the house, soon speeding off in his car.

Tony stood there for a moment, questioning Gibbs' instructions. Then he made a bold decision and reached for his car keys...

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Hey, Ducky," Abby smiled as the M.E came into the lab. "Got something for me to run?" she asked when she spotted the small evidence jar in his hand.

"Possibly," he said as he handed it to her. "It just might be a thumb print from our killer. Mr. Palmer discovered it beside the punctures on one of the victims. We dissected the bit of skin and I decided to rush this up to you straight away."

"It's pretty freaky, isn't it?" Abby asked, excitedly, as she opened the jar and prepared the evidence for examination.

"The amount of mummified corpses?"

"Well...yeah, I guess that, too. But I was talking about the possibility that our serial killer is a vampire!"

"Abigail..." Ducky couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"Seriously! I mean, other than the fact that there's two puncture wounds on their necks, and this guy keeps his face hidden...which is necessary since he's trying to be outside in the daytime, this guy is obviously a slave to ritual and obsessive behavior. Look at what he does with their bodies, for instance. This could be why we never actually encounter a vampire's victims! They stash them away!"

"Well, on the off chance that you're wrong," he smirked, "Let's assume there's a living person to match that print to."

"You found a print?" they both turned to Tony's voice as he came into the lab.

"Tony! What are you doing here?" Abby said as she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him for a tight hug.

"Actually, I'm here to help figure out who the killer is," he replied in a raspy voice, and she released him as she realized she was squeezing him too tightly.

"But you should be home, resting," Ducky told him. "It's a bit late to be profiling."

"It can't wait," he told them. "He has Ziva and McGee..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"There's no sign of a struggle or resistance, Jethro," Tobias told him as they approached the agency car. "We didn't find any prints other than theirs. I've got every available agent searching the units. But this could take all night."

"We may not have all night, Tobias," Gibbs narrowed his eyes as he crouched down beside the open door of the car and looked inside. Then he looked down at the gravel below them. "No signs of being dragged off," he said.

"Which could mean they were being held at gunpoint," Fornell suggested.

Gibbs shook his head, "Ziva wouldn't have left everything behind. Everything's been left here."

"There's a heavy set of footprints leading over to where the pavement begins," Fornell pointed out. "But I can't imagine how the hell one guy could carry both of your agents." Gibbs squinted in thought as he examined the footprints in the gravel. They were fairly deep, indicating a good amount of weight. But it didn't make sense.

"Where the hell did you go?" he whispered to their invisible assailant as he scanned the vast amount of land covered with rows of storage units.

"I've got local PD covering every way outta here. They're here, Gibbs. We just gotta find 'em."

"Ya think?" Gibbs glared as he began a brisk pace toward the far end of the units.

"Where are you goin'?" Tobias protested.

"To find my agents!"

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"So you believe this killer may have been specifically targeting Jethro?" Ducky asked as he and Tony talked.

"Maybe the whole team," he replied. "Ducky, was there any indication of how much time between the head trauma and the blood-draining?"

"Maybe a matter of hours, but I can't be certain." The thought was cut short by a beeping from Abby's computer.

"Got a match," she said and she typed. Tony stood from his seat at the table and turned to watch the screen. "Curtis Leeson," a picture popped up on the screen. "So much for being a vampire. Wouldn't show up in a picture," she squinted.

"This guy is huge," Tony said as he read the stats. "Nearly seven feet tall, two hundred and eighty pounds of what looks like pure muscle... No wonder he got them so easily."

"He was accused of assaulting an officer back in 2007, but he disappeared after making bail," Abby read aloud. "Tony, this guy lived close by, back then. A house on the corner of East and Main...that's where the storage facility is."

"He lived in a storage facility?" Ducky asked, skeptically.

"No, that place has only been there for eight months," she said as she typed and brought up another photo. "There was an article about how they were leveling this old house that used to be farther back on the property before putting up the units."

"What if it's still there," Tony thought out loud. "What if they leveled the house, but there's still a sub-level...like a basement? He could be there... that's where he could be holding them," he pulled out his cell, dialing Gibbs' number. After several rings, it went to voice mail and he ended the call in frustration. "Why wouldn't he answer his phone? Gibbs always answers..."

"I'll try him," Abby said as she picked up the lab phone and dialed.

"Perhaps you can try calling Agent Fornell," Ducky suggested to Tony. But he wasn't listening anymore...

"Something's wrong," he said in barely a whisper. "I gotta get over there..."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Gibbs!" Fornell called out when he couldn't find him. "Jethro, where the hell are ya?" he rounded the last unit. He put a finger on the wire-tap at his ear, "Anyone see Agent Gibbs?"

_"Negative, Sir,"_ came a multitude of responses.

"Sonofabitch, Gibbs," he cursed under his breath.

_"Sir, we've got a car coming through pretty fast. Identified himself as Agent DiNozzo..."_

"He's okay," Tobias told him as he heard the car approaching. He held a hand up to block the headlight glare, and expected him to stop. But the car kept going; passing over the pavement and into the vast expanse of grassy land behind them. "What the hell are you doin', kid?" he said to himself, and began the trek toward where the car stopped...

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Gibbs felt sick to his stomach as he cracked open his eyes to, what seemed at the time, a blinding light. He couldn't recall how he'd lost consciousness. But he remembered that he was searching for something...someone...

His eyes focused as he searched the strange room, but he realized that he was restrained; tied unceremoniously to a chair. After assessing his own situation, his eyes focused on two stirring forms to his right. "Ziver? McGee? You okay?" his voice felt dry and raspy. They were tied as well, but lying on the floor. They seemed to have been drugged, judging by the heavy-lidded look in their eyes as they nodded. Both of them were gagged with what looked like handkerchiefs.

"You're awake," he turned toward the deep voice at the doorway. Suddenly, Gibbs understood how the man had managed to carry his agents from the car. "I'm glad you made it so easy for me to apprehend you, Agent Gibbs. I thought it would be considerably more difficult once I saw how many agents are crawling around out there."

"What do you want with us?" Gibbs asked. Leeson looked to the other agents before meeting Gibbs' eyes again.

"They were just bait, Gibbs. I was only ever after you this time."

"Why?" Gibbs squinted.

Leeson crept closer to him until Gibbs could feel his breath at his ear, causing him to cringe. "Because you could find me."

"Well, you've got me," Gibbs said. "So let them go."

"I can't do that," he said as he turned and walked toward a desk against the opposite wall. "They know where I am. They know _who_ I am."

"How do you plan on leaving here? Three NCIS agents go missing in this area, and they know you're still here. You think they're gonna walk away?"

A smug grin washed over the man's face. "By the time they find you, you will be a dried up, unrecognizable shadow of a man...just like the rest of them. And since I have the bait still, once the tranquilizer runs out of their systems, I'll take their blood as well."

"What the hell do you want with our blood?" Gibbs asked, frustratedly.

"I need it, Agent Gibbs," he said with seriousness. "I can't survive without... oh did you really think I was just killing people for the hell of it?"

"Seemed pretty senseless to me," Gibbs retorted. "What the hell do you mean, 'you need it'?"

Leeson's defensive nature kicked in as he once again closed the space between them; anger written on his face. "How often do you eat, Gibbs? How often does a man need to eat? I only kill when I need it..."

"You're _drinking_ the blood you take?" Gibbs' face was a picture of disbelief. "Do you think you're some kinda vampire? Is that what this is all about? You've been killing innocent people because you think you need their blood to survive..."

"No one ever believes..." he said softly as he backed away toward the desk again, opening a drawer. "Not until it's too late." He pulled out what resembled two large empty IV bags with tubing. Gibbs suddenly felt a churning in his gut and heard the muffled protests from his agents beside him...

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"DiNutso, what the hell are ya doin'?" Fornell asked as he reached the agent who was frantically searching the ground with a flashlight.

"There's a...door somewhere..." Tony said with labored breath. "Used to be...a house here. Guy's name is...Leeson. Found his print...on one of the bodies. There's a way in...somewhere..."

"Hang on," he put his finger to his ear, "Agent Tenor," he called through the con. The line hissed with interference. "Damnit. Hold on, I'm gonna go back a ways and get some more help over here," he sprinted away from Tony.

But Tony continued his efforts, searching and praying that he wasn't too late. It wasn't until he tripped and fell to the ground with a thud, that he noticed the small latch-handle sticking up from the ground. The hatch was well hidden, grown over with grass. He scrambled to his feet, momentarily looking back toward the storage facility to see if Fornell was coming back yet, but not waiting to open the hatch; gun drawn...

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"Who told you you had to do this?" Gibbs asked Leeson. The man simply looked at him, questioningly. "Who told you that you had to drink blood to survive?" he clarified.

Leeson cocked his head, "Who told you that you had to eat food to survive, Gibbs?" he asked.

"Probably my mother," he replied, cocking his own head.

"I don't have a mother," Leeson said with unfocused eyes. "All I remember is _this_ life. This is who I am; I can't change that."

"Yes, you can."

"No!" Leeson stormed up to him, pressing Gibbs' head back against the wall and securing it there with a metal clamp, so he was unable to move it. "Don't tell me what I can do! I am in control! Not you!"

A small crash came from outside the door of the room and Leeson's head shot over in that direction. Gibbs took advantage of the moment as he tried to tug loose from the ropes around his hands. But they were tight, and there was no way he was getting out of this alone...

"Is this another one of your agents?" Leeson stormed back into the room, dragging Tony behind him.

_Sonofabitch,_ Gibbs thought. _Damnit, DiNozzo...not you, too... _"No," Gibbs lied. "He works for the storage place." He met Tony's eyes for a moment before Leeson let go of his shirt, and he fell in a boneless manner to the floor.

"No matter," Leeson said. "Seems like such a waste of blood. If only I'd been prepared to be collecting so much..."

"Oh my god," Tony laughed from his position on he floor and Leeson glared at him from where he stood beside Gibbs. "You really _do..._think you're a...vampire! I can't believe...she was right..."

"You _are _one of Gibbs' agents," Leeson confirmed. "I would've settled for just killing _him_, but this pretty much ensures that I will never be caught," he smirked as he bent to pick up the thick needles that connected to the tubing and turned to face Gibbs.

"You're forgetting...something," Tony said as he cocked his gun that he'd hidden away before his failed attempt to climb down into the basement gracefully. Leeson turned to face Tony again. "I have a gun, Asshole," he told him.

Leeson just smiled. "You can't hurt me with that," he told him before turning his attention back to Gibbs.

"Get away from him!" Tony yelled. But Leeson didn't flinch as he neared Gibbs' throat. Tony aimed for the man's leg and fired. Leeson turned, shocked that the bullet had caused him such pain. His eyes fixed on Tony before pulling a knife from his back pocket and lunging toward him.

"Tony!" Gibbs yelled out. Tony fired at Leeson's chest...once...twice...and the third time, Leeson slowly collapsed down to his knees, dropping the knife before falling onto his side.

Tony met Gibbs' eyes again; his breath coming even more labored than before, "You okay, Boss?" he breathed.

"Thanks to you," he replied. Tony nodded in acknowledgment as his arm lowered and his eyes grew heavy.

He wanted nothing more than to be able to get up and untie his friends, but his body wouldn't respond to his demands. He felt himself collapsing back down, "Fornell...knows where...we are..." he managed.

"Tony?" Gibbs called out.

"'m okay," he replied. And as he heard the sound of Fornell's voice yelling down into the lair, he allowed himself to close his eyes.

"'bout damn time, Tobias," Gibbs grunted as the agent released him from his restraints with a smirk.

"You're the one who decided to go off on your own," he said as he helped him to his feet. "If it wasn't for your boy, DiNozzo, it woulda taken a lot longer."

"Yeah, I know," he said as he appraised Ziva and Tim who were being freed from their bindings. "You okay?" he asked them.

"We are unharmed," Ziva answered for them, glancing over at Tony. Gibbs turned and walked over to Tony, crouching down beside him and grabbing his shoulder.

"Hey," he called, shaking him a bit.

"Boss," he cracked his eyes open. "Just resting my eyes. Gimme a minute...so you don't have to...carry me outta this hole."

"Tony..."

"I know, Boss. I'm sorry... Ya told me not to come. Better to...seek forgiveness..."

"Yeah, yeah," he gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Also told ya you weren't replaceable. Were ya tryin' to live up to that by riskin' your ass?"

"Nah," he grinned. "Just tryin' to...make sure I didn't lose...my team. 'm nothin' worth...stayin' around without you guys..." his eyes focused on the rush of people moving to exit; momentarily locking gazes with Ziva and McGee as they gave him appreciative smiles mixed with concern. When he met Gibbs' eyes again, he couldn't help but to allow the sudden rush of realization hit him. It was a mixture of everything he'd shoved aside for the past hour; helplessness, fear, and finally, relief. "Thought I was gonna lose ya, Boss," he had to clench his jaw as he tried to swallow the sudden lump in his throat.

Gibbs smirked and shook his head, "You've always had my six, DiNozzo." After a moment, he stood, holding a hand down for Tony. "Let's get the hell outta here."

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**Epilogue will be up possibly tomorrow. Yeah...I think I shoved enough crazy cases into this one. :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Epilogue**

**one week later...**

"They're keeping him sedated," Ducky explained as he and Gibbs stood before the glass of Leeson's cell. "And restrained, as he's a danger to himself and others. He's been declared criminally insane. There's no known explanation as to why or when he became filled with such delusion. But I can most certainly tell you that he is _not_ a vampire."

"No kiddin', Duck," Gibbs replied. "I'm just tryin' to wrap my head around how many more people would've been killed at his hand, if he hadn't felt compelled to bring us in. All those people...Sometimes I just don't understand."

"What matters now, is that he's been stopped. And that your team came out of this unscathed. Anthony returns to work tomorrow, correct?"

"Yeah. He's doin' well. Back to runnin'. His stamina is getting back to normal."

"I can't help but to think of the chain of events leading up to your rescue," the doctor said as they turned to exit the facility. "It's almost as if fate was lending a hand."

"What do ya mean?"

"If Tony had been back to work before this case, the lot of you might not have had the positive outcome that you did. It could've been that all of you would've been killed. But the fact that he wasn't with you on the scene... well, it just seems like it was fate that played a hand in how the events unfolded."

Gibbs let the words sink in a bit as he considered them. It seemed logical; Tony might've had the worst of luck, if looked upon in a different light. But his misfortunes almost always led to some huge discovery and solved an otherwise difficult case. Still, it was difficult to watch him suffer. _Difficult_ didn't seem to be a strong enough word to describe the feeling at all...

*~.~*

Gibbs pulled up beside Ducky's Morgan once they arrived back at NCIS together. "Thanks for the lift, Jethro," he said as he opened his door. "I'll see you in the morning. Looks like we just beat the storm," he motioned the the suddenly darkening sky as a light rain began.

"Haven't beat it yet, Duck. Still gotta get home." Gibbs' cell rang right as Ducky shut the door and headed for his own car. He answered, "Yeah, Gibbs."

_"Hey, Boss," _Tony's voice sounded out of breath on the other line, and it caused a twinge of fear in Gibbs' chest.

"You okay, Tony?"

_"Yeah. Just wonderin' if you happened to be on your way home?"_

"About to be. What's wrong?"

_"Ah...well..." _the hesitancy in his voice caused Gibbs to throw the car into reverse and speed out of the lot. _"I left for what was supposed to be a ten-mile run. But here I am at the half-way point, and it just started pouring outta nowhere."_

"Where are you?"

_"Well, I'm standing under an awning outside your favorite coffee shop. I could make it home, Boss... but I know you'd kill me if I ended up sick on my first day back..."_

"I'll be there in five."

*~.~*

When Gibbs pulled up close to the sidewalk, he saw Tony come out of the cafe with a cup of coffee in each hand as he rushed toward the car. Tony set one of the cups on the roof so he could open the door, then grabbed it before quickly sliding into the car and handing one to Gibbs. "Thank-you present, Boss," he smirked as he shut the door and slipped on the seat belt.

"Good call," Gibbs replied with a smirk as he pulled away from the cafe.

"Yeah, I thought it might soften the blow to the back of my head," Tony quipped.

"Not the coffee, DiNozzo," he glanced over to the questioning look that painted Tony's face. "Callin' me to come get you." He looked back to the road.

"Oh. Well...I figured I should stop tempting fate so often," he replied. "I'm savin' it for when it's worth the risk," he grinned before taking a long sip of his coffee. "At least until I'm back to my usual self...a hundred percent," he smirked as he looked out the window. Then he felt a smack to the back of his head. "Which is never gonna happen if you keep doin' that, Boss!"

Gibbs cocked his head; a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, "Guess I need to do it more often then."

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Tony was packing a majority of his things into a small suitcase, in preparation for his return to his own apartment after work tomorrow. He couldn't help but to feel a little sad to be leaving. It'd been comforting to have his boss...well, his mentor, around. But he chalked the depression down to being the final residual effects of his recovery, and forced himself to accept it bravely.

Setting the bag aside, he decided the rest could wait till tomorrow, and headed out of the guest room toward the kitchen to grab a beer. Gibbs had gone to the basement when they'd arrived home and Tony mentioned packing. So he thought he'd go downstairs and keep him company for a while. But there was an unexpected knock at the door.

"You expecting someone, Boss?" Tony shouted downstairs.

"No," he replied as he set down the sandpaper and headed up.

But Tony had already made his way to the front door, glancing briefly out the window to see Tim's car out front. "Hey, Probie!" he grinned as he opened the door. "What're you doin' here?"

"Actually, I come bearing gifts," he said with a smile. "Can I come in?"

"If one of them is for me!" Tony started toward the living room, noticing Gibbs in the hall having just come upstairs.

"Well," Tim said as he walked in with a parcel in each arm, "One of them is dinner...assuming you haven't already eaten. It's just some Chinese...nothing big," he said as he set the bag down on the kitchen table and came back out to the living room. "This, I ordered for you a couple weeks ago," he said as he handed Tony the brown-paper packaged item, probably a bit longer than a golf club, and as wide as a baseball bat.

"What is it?" Tony asked as he tore at the paper.

"Just something I happened across online that made me think of you," he smirked. "I thought it might hold a little more meaning than its original creator intended..."

Tony squinted curiously from Tim to the package as he managed to remove the paper, revealing a poster-tube. After popping the plastic top from one end, he held his hand over the opening and tipped the container so that its contents would fall out. He was slightly confused, at first, as the clear amber-colored ball hit his palm. And he continued to pull the rest of the tube off, realizing it was a cane. For a moment, he almost felt offended. But then he looked more closely at the amber-colored glass.

"It's uh...it's like the one from Jurassic Park," McGee felt slightly regretful in that moment when he saw the confusion on Tony's face. "I thought, with you surviving the Dengue Fever and all...maybe it'd be a funny memento..."

"The John Hammond cane," Tony grinned. "This is...so awesome, McGoo!" he held the amber close in front of his face as he peered at the preserved mosquito inside. "Almost makes me wish I had a bum leg..." Tony turned to look at Gibbs. "Boss, can I-"

"No," he interrupted. "Can't bring it to work, Tony," he smirked. Then he cocked his head, "Unless ya think you'll be needing it." With that, he headed to the kitchen to ready some plates.

Tony sighed, then turned back to Tim. "Thanks, man," he said, then decidedly gave him a quick hug and pat on the back.

"You're welcome. Thanks for saving my ass," Tim replied as they parted.

Tony let out a small laugh, "We've all been saving each others asses for years, McGoo. Part of the job," he looked at him for a moment in thought. "Even when it's not," he added. And after another moment, he caught the aroma coming from the take-out in the kitchen and headed toward it. "Hey, don't hog all the eggrolls, Boss!"

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**Fin...**

**I sat here trying to think of a nice office-banter scene to do the next day. But ultimately, I think this was where it just needed to end. Hope you enjoyed this! I'll be starting a new story tonight. Not sure if it'll be up till tomorrow tho :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey, everyone! I've been working on the development of a website for my fics... It's not even close to ready, BUT, the whole purpose for it, is to show art that was made for my stories.**

**So, in light of the fact that the first piece was done for THIS story, I'm going to give you the url to the site so you can have a glimpse of what is to come.**

**This picture was drawn by my good friend, and talented artist...he who shall not be named until I get permission to say. LOL!**

**It depicts the scene where Tony is being transported back to the Djibouti base after being stabbed. **

**Now, since ff won't allow me to stick a url in here, you'll have to type it out. But fear not, 'cause it's quite simple:**

**xenascully dot com**

**Pretty easy.**

**:)**

**Let me know what you think, and feel free to, at any time, make suggestions for your favorite scenes from any of my stories, for future art to be made.**

**Thanks, guys!**

**-xe**


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